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THE LOWER FALLS OF THE YELLOWSTONE. 



J 1 1 



THE WONDERS 



— OF 



GEYSER LAND. 



A TRIP TO THE 



mOWSTOl NATIONAl PARK, 

OF WYOMING. 

Together with a thrilling account of the 

Capture By The Nez Perces Indians. 

AND SUBSEQUENT ESCAPE OF THE 

JVATIOJVAL PARK TOURISTS, 

Of Radersbiirg and Helena, Montana, in August, 1S77. 



ILLUSTRATED. 



By F. D. carpenter, 

SON OF D. D. CARPENTER, FORMERLY OF WISCONS I^^T^-^P 






BLACK EARTH, WIS. : ig:""7^ ^o^/ 

BURNETT 8z SON, PRINTERS AND PUBLISHERS. " •'^-^-^^» 



187S. 



WONDERS OF GEYSER LAND. 



Having heard of the curiosities of Wonderhind, and being im- 
pelled with a desire to view them for myself, I resolved, in July 
of 1S77, that I would visit them. I consulted with a friend, Mr. 
A. Oldham, who, also was anxious to behold the beauties of this 
wonderful region, and we concluded to make immediate prepara- 
tions for our departure. We accordingly each procured a saddle 
horse and a pack animal and expected to complete our prepara- 
tions and be upon the road by the ist of August. 

A few days previous to the time of our contemplated departure, 
however, I met Mr. A. J. Arnold., of Blackfoot, who, upon being 
informed that Mr. Oldham and myself were about ready to start 
for the Geysers or National Park, said that if we would wait un- 
til he could complete his preparations he would accompany us. 
Being glad of his company we consented to do so, and then, since 
there were three of us, we altered our plans as to the manner of 
our going and procured a buggy. 

Having completed our arrangements and purchased provisions 
for a six weeks camp, we left Helena on the 29th of July for my 
father's who resided about forty-five miles from Helena, on a 
small stream call Deep Creek, that empties into the Missouri 
River, where we proposed procuring other necessaries for the 
trip. Here I saw my brother-in-law, George F. Cowan, who 
said he would go w^ith us, as also did Charles Mann, of Radeis- 
burg. William Dingee, of Helena, having expressed a desire to 
be one ot the party we concluded that \ve would organize a larger 
party than we at first proposed doing and made preparations ac- 



6 



coixliiigly. Mrs. Cowan, my sister, and a younger sister, Ida, 
aged thirteen years, concluded that they would like to join the 
party, and a great many others said they would go with us if we 
would wait ten or fifteen days, but as business required that most 
of us be back by the first of September, we could wait no longer, 
and on the third day of August, having borrowed a team from 
my father and secured the services of a young man, named Hen- . 
ry Myers to take charge of it, we drove down to the river and 
crossed at Indian Creek Ferry. 

Having crossed the river we went to Radersburg, a distance of 
eighteen miles from my father's where we arrived at two o'clock 
in the afternoon. Here Mr. Cowan, Mrs. Cowan and Mr. Mann 
were to join us, but being hiformed by them that they would not 
be ready for two or three days, we, with the characteristic safig 
froid of the western people, though anxious to be off, made our- 
selves at home. 

On the 5th we bade farewell to our friends and were soon on 
our journey southward. I will now quote from my journal which 
was kej^t from the time of our departure until our capture by the 
Indians. The journal was left in the buggy at the time of our 
capture, and was picked up by Mr. Cowan as he was returning 
towards the Geyser Basin after being wounded by the Indians. 

Sunday, August 5th. — Left Radersburg in the morning and 
proceeded two miles to Crow Creek, where we halted to make 
some prc])arati()iis that we had forgotten. At 1030 we left Crow 
Creek and a drive of nine miles brought us to the place of Mr. 
Naves. Here we halted to await the return of Cowan who had 
gone to Ihc residence of a man, named Wilson, to borrow a needle 
gun. Upon his return we proceeded along the "divide" that sep- 
arates the valley of Crow Creek from tliat of Jcfrerson Kiver, a 
distance of twenly-two miles from l<.aders1)urg. As we were 
leisurely wending our way up the divide at a distance of four or 
five miles from Naves', and when near the summit of a rise, we 
suddctily csj)icd tlnee antelope lying in- the road al)out three hund- 
red yardb nhcrid of ub. As wc approacbed they jutmpcd to their 



feet and stood gazing at us as if not at all frightened. Here was 
meat for the larder, and we halted to give our marksmen an op- 
portunity to secure it. With the confidence of old hunters they 
dismounted and after a brief parley as to whom should the honor 
of "first game" be given, one of our nimrods took deliberate aim, 
fired — and the antelope looked somewhat surprised at the noise. 
Another marksman stepped to the front with the utmost assur- 
ance, took a long and deadly aim, fired— and the antelope began 
to move off. A half dozen shots were fired in quick succession, 
and the antelope, in honor to the salute, paused for an instant in 
graceful recognition and bounded away. As a matter of course, 
the guns were to blame. 

Arriving at the top of the divide we struck a livelier gait and 
proceeded down the other side at about eight mdes an hour. 
When near the foot of the hill, I found I had lost my hat and the 
prospects for a bare headed campaign were imminent. Fortunate- 
ly Mr. Mann had an extra one that he gave me. We arrived 
at the Jefferson River at about 7 P. M. and went into camp 
about two miles from its confluence with the Missouri. 

We had encamped near a ranche, and during the interval of 
supper getting, which the male portion of the party had gallant- 
ly taken upon themselves, Emma and Ida went over to it for the 
purpose of making the acquaintance ot the inmates. They were 
agreeably surprised to find that persons occupying it were old 
acquaintances of the Cowans, by the name of Crab, who had but 
recently married and moved here from Radersburg. They ac- 
cepted an invitation to remain for supper, and afterwards returned 
to camp with an invitation for the whole company to spend the 
evening with their new found friends. 

During the absence of the ladies we were busily engaged in 
preparing our first meal in camp, and at the usual mountain sig- 
nal for refreshments, "grub pile," we proceeded to lighten the 
stock of provisions by , a hundred pounds or less. As the meal 
progressed, Dingee, who was as yet fastidious, remarked that he 
would "fall off twenty pounds in weight before his return," and 
subsequent events prove the truthfulness of the prediction, but in 



8 



a way not anticipated by him. Having finished the frugal repast 
Dingee said he "did not feel well," and in view of the quantity 
of provisions consumed by him it created no astonishment in the 
mnids of the party. 

Supper over, we took a guitar and violin and with the excep- 
tion of Dingee, who volunteered to act as dishwasher for the oc- 
casion, repaired to the hosjoitable roof of the Crabs, where we 
passed a pleasant evening in music and song. The hour of eleven 
came speedily, and leaving Emma and Ida to remain over night 
we returned to camp. As we approached we were astonished 
at the appearance of Dingee, who apparently was endeavoring 
(as the boys put it) "to skin a cat through his mouth." He didn't 
look well, and an expression of ineffable disgust swept over his 
features when interrogated as to his "feelings." We spread our 
blankets on the green sward, and in a few minutes were dream- 
ing of the geysers, the idea of which was suggested, I presume, 
by the recent spoutings of Dingee and the gentle rumblings of 
his snores. 

August 6th. — At day break Dingee, having fully recovered, 
was up calling all hands to "grub," and it may be presumed that 
we did ample justice to his bill of fare. After breakfast Cowan 
started down the river to get a tent at a place where Crab told 
us one could be obtained, and the balhnce of the party struck 
out on the road. 

Wc crossed the river by a bridge, and beyond a slough close to 
the river, we came to Shed's toll bridge, about a mile and a half 
from camp. We turned southward, and as we were driving close 
to the river I had the good fortune to get three large mallard 
ducks that furnished an ample supply of the clioicest meat for 
dinner. About eight miles up the valley we saw antelope in the 
distance, and although Mr. Oldham and myself tried for a shot 
we were unsuccessful. Wc turned up Willow Creek, where we 
were to wait for Cowan and the buggy. Here the residents 
kindly informed us that the Indians would capture us, but think- 
ing there was no immediate danger at least, we pushed onward 



leaving the Jefferson to the right. At Fredrick's mill, sixteen 
miles from our camp of the night previous, we stopped for dinner. 
Mrs. F. wished to join our party, but as she could not get ready 
inside ot two days we decided to go ahead, and increasing our 
larder by the addition of two sacks of flour which we purchased 
from "Mr. Fredricks we resumed our journey. 

At Sterling, a mining town in the mountains, situated on 
Meadow Creek, twenty-six miles from Fredrick's, night overtook 
us and we stopped and went into camp. The "grub wagon," 
which we were momentarily expecting did not come and most of 
the party retired supperless. Cowan said that he would not go 
without supper if he had to wait till breakfast time, so we waited 
hungrily until midnight, when the rattle of wheels told of their 
arrival and shortly after we were busily engaged in appeasing 
our inordinate appetites. 

August 7th, — Broke camp at eight o'clock and bade farewell 
to the desolated city of Sterling, which like many other mining 
cities, is one of the things that were. From Sterling we crossed 
Madison "divide" at a point where it is twelve miles from water 
to water. Near the summit Mr. Oldham and myself, being in 
advance, descried more antelope about a half mile below the road, 
and we determined to try our luck with the guns that had so 
cruelly deceived the others. I returned to the wagon for my 
gun, but Mr. Cowan expressing a desire to try a shot, I gave him 
my horse and gun, and he and Mr. Oldham started in quest of 
the game. 

We drove down the divide, and coming to a pretty little brook 
that was alive with trout, we stopped for dinner. We turned 
up the stream to a point about a mile above the road, and halted 
for the "grub wagon, which, as before, we had left in charge of 
Myers and Mann. It came in sight, and passed us despite the 
yelling of the whole party. They did not hear us, and I started 
after them on foot. After a vigorous walk of two miles, I over- 
took them and turned them back into camp. 

Cowan and Oldham came in sight, and we succeeded in making 



10 



them hear us and shortly afterwards thej rode into camp, bringing 
with them the hind quarters of an antelope. (It inay be noted 
their good luck was not accredited to the guns.) At three P. M. 
we were on the road again, and after a pleasant drive of fifteen 
jiiiles across the bench, we halted for night. As usual, our pro- 
visions were behind, and as we were out fishing when it passed, 
the prospect for supper was poor indeed. On mounting a bridge 
which spans the Madison near where we camped, I could see the 
wagon fading in the dim distance. Hastily dispatchmg one of 
the party in pursuit on a horse, we, in the course of an hour or so 
were enjoying an excellent supper, to which a fine lot of brook 
trout added not a little. Here, again, Dingee expressed fears 
relative to his anticipated "falling off" in flesh, but the party could 
not agree with him, inasmuch as his horse had to carry the 
amount that he ate, .Supper over, we passed the evening in mu- 
sic and song, and at eleven, "turned in" for the night. 

August Sth. — The sun rose bright and clear, and this promises 
to be a beautiful day. We were on the move at eight o'clock. 
We cross' the bridge and the river bottom beyond, and about a 
mile from camp, strike the bench land again. We now have a 
i)eautlful drive up the Madison: the roads are good, and the par- 
ty in excellent spirits, (or the spirits in them 95 per cent, proof.) 
We drove twenty miles, and camped for noon, on Bear Creek. 
Here we met a herder hunting horses, of whom we asked how 
far we had come since morning. We had been traveling at a 
lively gate all the forenoon, and one may rest assured that thanks 
were not pleasantly returned, when he informed us we had come 
but eight miles. Oldham observed that "he looked like a man 
f)f truth, but that he'd bet he had lied V)y about twelve miles by' 
the watch," and a' reference to our guide book, showed that we 
had driven eighteen miles. We also found that by driving eight 
miles farther, we would strike a small stream, called Indian 
Creek, sO we concluded that we would not camp for noon, but 
drive (Hi to the creek and cam[) for the night. 

After leaving Bear Crc-<Vk,' there was no timber, aird wc were 



11 



compelled to follow cow paths for a distance of ten miles, where 
we left the bench and drove down to a pretty stream that we 
rightly conjectured, was Indian Creek. We drove down the 
stream for a mile and selected a beautiful camprng place. We 
had here, fine sport fishing-, and Cowan shot some nice sage hens, 
and a couple of large bald headed eagles. 

From our position, looking down towards the mountains, we 
saw, about ten miles away, what we supposed were a number of 
Indian ponies. Thinking to be on our guard, Dingee and iriy- 
self started out to scout. We passed down the creek three or 
four miles, struck off to the right, and came out about two miles 
below the objects that had excited such a warm interest. We 
cautiously approached, and on gaining an eminence, where we 
had an unobstructed view, found the objects of suspicion were an 
herd of cattle. We silently looked at each other, shook hands, 
called it "draw game," and returned to camp to relate the result, 
and allay the fears of the party. As usual, the evening was passed 
in song, and after Mr. Mann had sketched the party :;nd camp, 
we retired for the nig-ht. 

August 9. — Again the weather is beautiful. Breakfast over, 
we "hitch up,"" and start up the creek, which we follow a mile 
and a half, when we strike a trail leading up the Madison, which 
we take. We follow this for twelve miles, then turn abruptly 
towards the river, and proceed about two miles, when we strike a 
little stream, where we camped for dinner. Arnold, Myers, and 
myself, went to the river, where we caught some fine trout, while 
the others were getting dinner and picking berries. 

At 3 P. M. we are again on the road, and follow the trail as 
before. The path becomes more distinct as we proceed, and fi- 
nally eiTierges into a good road. X^ie road follows close by the 
river, and we follow it for a distance of ten miles, or to a point 
where a large stream, from the south-west, empties into it. This 
stream, just above its junction with the river, flows between two 
large mountains of rock, and through a dark, deep canyon^ tliut 
m eKtremely picttiresque. We crossed the Madlion, pick^^i^d mM" 



12 



horses, and after a lime spent in fishing, with excellent results, 
as each took a large string of trout, we partook of a hearty sup- 
per and "turned in." 

August io. — We "rout out," as usual, to the melodious cry 
of "all hands on deck and "grub pile." An examination of the 
buggy reveals the fact that we must set the tire ere we go far- 
ther. We collect wood, and carry water for the purpose, and 
soon finish the job, in true western style of "good, if not so nice," 
and again set out. We follow the south bank of the river, which 
here flows from the south-east. The scenery is wild and beauti- 
ful, the river falls about four feet to the mile, with little ripples 
running clear across it, here and there, for a distance of about five 
miles, and the drive was a delightful one. We follow the river 
for about twelve miles, to second canyon, where it flows out of 
the mountains. Here we saw little cascades falling, far up the 
side of the mountains, for a distance of three to five hundred feet. 
wSparkling in the sun, they looked like threads of silver, and with 
their back-ground of dark green verdure, were beautiful indeed. 
Our road now turns abruptly to the south, and we leave the 
Madison, and start to cross the divide towards Henry's Lake, a 
distance of ten miles. To the left, the mountains tower away 
among the clouds, and on the right lies a roHing mountainous 
country. Antelope and small game are occasionally seen by the 
rcvid but we do not try for a shot. A pleasant drive of fifteen 
miles brings us to the top of the divide, and as we look south- 
ward we see l)elow us, glistening in the bright sunlight like a 
mirror, a beautiful sheet of water, dotted here and there with 
little islands of green. Pelicans, swans, sea gulls and geese, float- 
ed upon its surface. We gaze enraptured on this beautiful scene, 
then, with a shout, drive pejl inell towards it. 

We came to the north-east end of the lake and passed on up 
the west side where we found a good camping ground near the 
rMiu:h ofa Mr. Sawlcll, which was then unoccupied. We found 
boats moored near us, and Arnold, Oldham, Ida and myself, 
i-tarted to visit an island, about a mile from shore. As we rowed 



u 



out we saw some fine trout below us that were distinctly visible 
through the clear water, and swimming near us, we saw a num- 
ber of swans with their young. On the island we discovered that 
we had found a hatching place ot wild fowls. We named the 
island, as does every one that visits it. As we returned, Ida threw 
a line over the stern of the boat and trolled for trout. She soon 
hooked a large salmon trout, and removing it from the hook took 
three more ere we reached the shore- Arriving at camp we find 
that the provisions are again behind, and at dark, the wagon not 
yet coming, Mr. Cowan mounts a horse and starts in quest of it. 
He returns shortly, having found it, and we soon partake of a 
bounteous supper. 

Our camp is delightfully situated about three hundred yards 
from the lake on the mountain side, and \ye have a beautiful view 
of it as it lies calmly sleeping in the moonlight. After supper 
the guitar and violin are brought out and we passed a jolly 
evening. Mr. Dingee performing some astonishing feats which 
he denominated "double shuffle" and "pigeon wing," and Mr. 
Oldham giving vent to the poetry in his nature through the me- 
dium ot " Where now is them good old prophets ?" At eleven 
Dingee announced the circus closed until the next evening and 
we went to sleep with plans fully matured for to-moirow's ex- 
plorations. 

During the night the wild birds on the lake, kept up a continu- 
al chorus ot discordant sounds, swans, pelicans, cranes, and geese 
vieing with each other in their efforts to make night hideous. 

August nth, — Dingee's hungry whoopcallcd us from dream- 
land to the realization of a beautiful morning and ravenous ap- 
petites for the excellent breakfast that he had as usual prepared. 
During the progress of the meal he again complained of "falling 
off," and the party imposed such confidence in his predictions as 
to offer him two hundred dollars to return home and thus keep 
us from actual starvation. He promptly declined. 

In accordance with the arrangements of the night previous, the 
party separated, each to seek such pleasure as his taste dictated. 



14 



Cowan, accompanied b}' Mrs. Cowan, went in quest of deer or 
elk on tlie surrounding mountains, Myers and Mann took the 
smaller of the boats and rowed out upon the lake, as the latter 
wished to make some sketches, and the remainder of us concluded 
to visit the head waters of Snake River, the outlet of the lake. 
We put aboard our guns, ammunition and fishing tackle, provided 
an ample dinner for Dingee and the rest of the party, and shoved 
off for a day's cruise. 

Arnold and Dingee laid claim to being " old salts," by the rea- 
son of their having been born upon the sea-shore, and proceeded 
to extem]3orize a sail from an old straw-tick, wdiich we had with 
us. Oldham and m3'self, being nothing but " land lubbers," 
could not participate in the preparations, but, nevertheless, noted 
them wdth interest, as we saw in their completion and application 
an entire absence of back aches and blisters. 

The preparations completed. Skippers Dingee and Arnold, 
with frequent reference to their " timbers," which thejM'e-iteratcd 
should be " shivered," and other harder but equall}^ as choice ex- 
pletives, gave command: "On deck everybody!" and we 
" shipped oars." The breeze was not sufficienth^ strong to move 
us, and we " out oars " again and paddled. Dingee, after the 
manner of other sailors, when becalmed, stuck his jack-knife in- 
to the mast and swore, 3^et it brought no wind. We took in sail, 
and rowed toward the east side of the lake, shooting at swan as 
we passed, but with no success. When nearly across, a fine breeze 
struck us, and Skipper Dingee gave orders to hoist sail by the 
seaman-like command, " Sail histed ! " We obeyed instantl v, 
and canK> near upsetting the boat, but soon succeeded in getting 
before the wind, and made a delighttul run to the south end of 
the lake. As we neared the end of the lake, we saw two swans 
with their youiig, which were about as large as wild geese, 
swinmiing near us. We approached nearer, and the old ones Hew, 
l)ut we were satisfied with the young ones, five of which we shot, 
Aud one we capluied alive. 

We made the head of the river and .landed. We strolled down 
the river some two miles searching for a good fishing ground. 



15 



and occasionally getting a shot at some geese, or an antelope on 
the opposite side of the river. We succeeded only In enjoying 
ourselves. 

We spent the day in rambling aimlessly around, after the man- 
ner of a picnic, and towards evening returned to the boat. The 
wind being " dead ahead," we manned the oars and pulled for 
cam^D, keeping close in shore. As we passed some bushes on the 
bank, the hungr}^ eyes of Dingee discovered some black currants, 
and we must, of necessity, stoj3 and pick a few. They grew in 
profusion and were very large. We picked an Immense quantity; 
at least this is the inference from Dino^ee's assertino^ that " he had 
enough." The wind was now blowing strong, and paddling was 
no recreation. We soon tired of it, when Dingee asserted that 
he could sail up. We doubted it; but our doubts were partlallv 
removed by his self-confident assertion, " that anybody could do 
it who only knew how." We stood In awe of his superior knowl- 
edge, and gazed in silent admiration upon the man as he set the 
sail and quietly took the helm. The first " tack " brought us 
back to the river, and filled the boat one-third full of water. At- 
tributing his ill -success to the fi-esJi water ^ he ordered us to 

shorten sail by the command, " Take down the thing," 

which we did. On being asked if " we should j^addle now or 
steam up," he lapsed into silence, and gave command to the "land 
lubbers." 

A two hours' hard pull brought us to our landing, and each tak- 
ing a swan on his back, proceeded single file to camp, where we 
found all assembled, busily engaged in getting supper. Supper 
over, we i^assed the evening in narrating the day's adventures 
and music. The time for retiring soon came, when we sang our 
midnight yell, in wdilch Oldham musically queried as to the 
whereabouts of the " j^rophets," and retired. 

August 12. — The usual yell of Dingee, that summons us to 
" grub pile," but Vvdiich never grows monotonous, again, salutes us 
as we turn out at the break of day. We find Dingee " heels over 
head" in dough; we commiserate his condition, and make haste 



16 



to assist him. We soon sit down to a breakfast of ducks, fish, 
ham, potatoes, buscuit and canned fruits, and envy not a king his 
delicacies. 

After breakfiist we employ the time in skinning our swans, each 
taking one and dressing it to suit himself. It being Sunda}^ we 
concluded to remain in camp, but Mrs. Cowan, who had not, as 
yet, been on the lake, expressing a desire to go boating, we again 
manned the boats for another excursion. Skipper Dingee being 
satisfied with his nautical experiences of the day before, (and so 
were we) remained in camp, and we could see him sitting on the 
bank, jDcacefully smoking his pijoe as we pulled away. Before 
going, however, we asked his advice relative to handling the craft 
while on a " tack," and also for an explanation of the expression 
" luflT, luflT;" which some of the party had construed into " duff," 
(a seaman's joudding). He abruptly arose and told us " to take a 
walk," which we did — towards the boats. 

We rowed about, fishing for a time ; but, growing tired of this 
sjDort, pulled towards some swarls that were a short distance from 
us. Mr. Cowan tried a long shot and hit an old one in the neck. 
We pulled along side of it, and, with no little trouble, succeeded 
in getting it into the boat. It was one of the largest birds 
we had ever seen, measuring eight and a half feet from tip to tip. 
As there were a number of young ones near, we gave chase to 
capture one, and, after an hour's paddling, succeeded in tiring it 
out and taking it captive. As we returned to camp, we secured a 
number of ducks, with but little effort, as they were easily ap- 
proaclicd, and rowed ashore about four o'clock. Myers and 
Mami soon apjoeared in the small boat, bringing with them scv- 
earl large strings of trout. Some of them weighed eight pounds 
each. 

We turned the captive swan loose in camp, and despite the re- 
monstrances of Cowan's dog. Dido, who wished to show off her 
good (lualities, it waddled around the camp as we ate, the while 
eyeing us suspiciously. I wished to keep it, but finally agreed to 
return it to the lake, upon the party's agreeing that they would 



help me catch another on our return. (It may here be noted 
that we did not all return this way, and those that. ({id were in a 
hurry.) 

After supper Cowan removed the skin of the dead swan and 
the balance of the party prepared a quantity of fish to carrv with 
us to the geyser basin, distant thirty-five miles. 

As we were about to retire, Arnold and Myers said they had 
found an inviting hay-loft near the ranch, and proposed that we 
take up our quarters there. Cowan would not move his tent, as 
he had it cosily prepared, but the remainder ot us took our blan- 
kets and accepted the hospitality of the loft. As we entered vv^e 
found some spears, used in fishing, and Arnold, M^^ers and my- 
self thought to avail ourselves of the pleasure thus offered us, 
and we started for a torch- light fish. We had a pleasant time 
for a halt-hour, spearing in that time some thirty-five suimon- 
trout. The wind arose and we returned to bed. My partner for 
the night was Mr. Oldham, and as I crept in beside him 1 
thought the bed seemed rather hard and cold. Soon I heard 
complaints from the others, and after a night's fitful dozing, we 
arose to find we had taken possession of Sawtell's ice-house, and 
had made our beds on the ice. We were soon in 'camp, and were 
not in anywise provoked to find that Cowan and the ladies had 
already prepared breakfast for us. 

August 13. — At nine o'clock we are again en route for ge\'ser 
land. The road winds around the mountains that border the 
north-east shofe of the lake, and as we reach an eminence at the 
north end, the lake lies 500 feet below us. From this point we 
have a most delightful view, and our artist produces his sketch 
book and outlines it. We halt for a time, and gaze m silent ad- 
miration upon the exquisitely beautiful scene. We are loth to 
leave, and it is with no little regret that we turn mountamward 
and resume our journey. 

We now pass southeast, leaving the lake to the right and in the 
rear of us, and soon arrive at the mouth of the Targee Pass, 
and begin the ascent of the mountain. The pass through this 



18 



mountain is an easy drive, rising gradually for about ten miles. 
Here we came to a large spring, and stop for dinner in a grove 
of cotton-wood trees. We get dinner, leave our marks upon the 
trees w ith date, and at 3 p. m. arc in the saddle. A ride of two 
miles brings us to the summit of the pass, and thence we gradu- 
ally descend to a low marshy prairie. Crossinij this, which is 
about eight miles wide, we come to a large stream flowing from 
the mountains to the south of us, which wesupposeis the right fork 
of the Madison, the water of which we find is quite warm. It is 
too early to camp, so wc ptish onward. As wc jog slowly along, 
a large herd of antelope cross the road directly in front of us, but 
our marksmen are far in advance, on the horses. 

We have now heavy timber ahead of us, and we suddenly hear 
the sound of approaching hoofs, and we "halt. Our horsemen 
burst into view, with their horses on the run, and they breatli- 
lessly report, " Indians coming." The "scare" does not succeed 
well, and then Cowan informs us there is no water in advance for 
a distance of ten miles. 

We turn back to the water, and select a suitable camping ground 
for the night. Arnold and myself go fishing, while the rest of the 
party get supjjer. We are soon summoned by Dingee's sonorous 
yell. The meal passed with no incident worthy of note. Old- 
ham, in searching for a better seat on the grass, sat down upon 
some hot stewed peaches. He sprang to his feet, dropped his 
plate, grasped the seat of his breeches with both hands, looked 
heavenward, and payed emphatic tribute to his Maker by one 
single ejaculation, but there was none of this noteworthy, except 
it be his tragic pose, eloquent gestures and touching appeal. He 
was heartily applauded and, finding his plate, retired to the 
wagon tongue to rub his burn, and meditate on the possibility of 
iritating the saddle on the coming morrow. 

Looking up the hill, wc see pack animals coming. Wc suppose 
that it IS (jcn. Sherman's party coming from the geysers, and 
with no little mterest hasten to get a better view of them. As 
they approach nearer we see that it is two mountaineers, who en- 
camp below us. 



19 



Supper over, we washed dishes, built our camp fire, and 
brought out the musical instruments. Myers and Mann went to 
visit the mountaineers, and soon returned with them. VVe learned 
that they were old mountaineers, by the name of Wood and 
Hicks, and were prospecting, and had left Gen. Sherman's party 
two days before. We were disappointed to hear that Sherman 
had lelt the geysers, and returned oy the way of Boseman, as we 
were expecting to meet him on our way. They told us that it 
would take us two days to reach the Park, as it would be neces- 
sary to cut our way through the woods. They bade us good 
night, and returned to their camp, while we went to sleep. "No 
sound broke the stillness except the occasional yelp of the Cay- 
ote, as he views our camp fire. 

August 14. — The nights are growing cool now, as we ascend 
the mountains, but it only makes sleep more refreshing and gives 
us better reason to respond with alacrity to Dingee's unearthly 
yell for breakfast. I start down the river to catch the horses, and 
as I pass the camp of the mountaineers, on my return, they salute 
me with the usual style of good bye, "so long ; good luck to 
you," and they strike off towards Lake Henry. This is, I believe, 
the last that was ever heard of these two men. They were prob- 
ably caught by Chief Joseph's band, and it is my opuiion that I 
saw Wood's mare with them subsequently. 

We hitch up and take to the road again, forthe Lower Geyser 
Basin. Aiter rising the hill our road, for a distance often miles, 
lies through a densely timbered country. We again strike the 
Madison River, and camp for our noonday meal. Here the 
scenery, is grand beyond description, as the river flows through 
tnountains miles in height, and are as rough as rocks and timber 
can make them. We are now about three miles from the Upper 
Canyon, and, finding a desirable place to halt, stop for dinner. 

A mile further on we come to vast quantities of fallen timber, 
and we find our progress impeded to such an extent that we are 
compelled to call our axes into requisition, and cut our way for 
more than a mile, when we ogain find open timber, (I wish to 



20 



add that we shall present no claims against the government for 
Iniilduig this road, as subsequently it gave Chief Joseph a better 
tliance to get away from Gen. Howard, or vice vercc.) 

We drive down off the mountam fo the river, which we find 
forks here, one branch coming from the north and the other from 
the east. Not knowing which of these to follow, We are evi- 
dently lost, but our apprehensions are soon relieved by a shout 
from Dingee, who has discovered the trail leading up the east 
fork. We follow it a short ways, and come suddenly to the 
mouth of the Canyon. 

It is now but 3 p. M., yet we concluded to camp for the night, 
as we wish to make the passage of the Canyon earlier in the day. 

At the supper which followed, consisting of game, fish, fruits, 
coffee and tea, Dingec again reminded us of his anticipated ema- 
ciation. It was noticeable that the fuller the fare the more he 
complained, and Oldham and myself were prompted to make a 
diagnosis of the case, and concluded that he either had the coir- 
sumption or had formerly been used as a government store-house. 
The party concurring, the committee arose and we went to bed. 

xVuGUST 15. — The beautiful view that greets us in the bright 
sunlight of the early morning hastens our preparations to enter 
the canyon, and we are soon ready to cross the river, which we 
do innnediately below our camp. The road tollows the bank of 
the river, and a cjuarter of a mile from our place ot crossing we 
enter the U})per Canyon of the Madison. 

A mere pen description of the sublimity of this magnificent 
mountain passage way could convey no idea of its beauties. It is 
nidescriba])ly beautiful and errand. The poetry of nature seems 
to have collected here. We cross the river seven times in passing 
thiough it, although it is but six miles long, and come out on a 
l.irge stieam that Hows from the north-east, which is called G.ib- 
hcn's Fork. Here we find a delightful place to cnmp, and halt 
for dinner. We find, also, that it is the site of the camp of Wood 
ii'id Hicks oti the i)i;dit before we mt.'t them We try fishing 
With j^oo'l su.'.fss, liiking (juitc 1 nuirii)er of white fish and trout, 



it 

21 



then cross the stream to the south bank. We now leave this 
stream, and begin the ascent of the divide that separates it from 
the Madison, which is now called the Fire Hole River. 

The road since leaving camp this morning has been good, and 
along its borders we find raspberries and strawberries growing 
in abundance. 

At half past three o'clock, we greet, with a hearty cheer, the 
appearance of the first geyser. It is a jet of steam thrown into 
the air three hundred feet, and is, apparently, about three or four 
miles from us. Two miles below us is plainly seen the Fire Hole 
River, and in a short time we reach it. Following up the river 
a mile, we come to an open flat where it forks, and we turn up 
the east fork some two hundred yards, and reach our first geyser 
or hot spring. It lies upon the other side of the river from us 
and we cross over to examine it more critically. 

We found that it was a mound, composed of sedimentary de- 
posit, about thirty feet in height, and the spring at its summit was 
about lour feet in diameter. The water from the spring, ran 
sparkling down the side, forming a beautiful little rivulet, and 
thence flowing to the river. 

We pause for a time to note its many beauties, then re-cro^s 
the stream to the wagons. We were now about three hundred 
yards from the timber, and at a point that, afterwards was the 
scene of our capture by the Indians. But little did we think then, 
that subsequent events should indellibly impress upon us every 
feature of this, the place of our introduction into Wonder land. 

We drive on up the east fork, about two hundred yards then 
cross, and are now surrounded by geysers and springs. The 
party scatter, each starting upon a tour of inspection without re- 
gard to the others. After a short ramble, I return to the buo^gy 
and drive on to the region of the Mud Pots, as they are called, 
which is but a few hundred yards in advance of where the partv 
abandoned the wagons. 

Tying the horses to a tree, I started upon a tour of observa- 
tion. The "Mud Pots" or "vats," are just what the name indi- 
cates, a depression in the earth v/hich is filled with a thick, grav- 



22 



ish colored mud. The peculiarity of the pots or vats, is that the 
mud is in a constant state of elniUition, the ground about it giving 
forth a hollow, rumbling sound. They Vciry in diameter from 
four or five to ten feet, antl the region in which they are found, 
covers an area of three or four acres. I was surprised to see no 
steam issuing from them, a^ I supposed they were intensely hot, 
but on putting my hand into the mud, I was more surprised to, 
find that they were very cold. Sounding them. I found their 
depth to be from four to thn'ty feet, 

I ascended a knoll near me, and on turnnig to the nortii, saw 
about a mde and a half distant, the Lower Geyser Basin. P^rom 
this point I had an excellent view of the whole basin. Its many 
geysers, constantly spouting forth their columns oi steam, gave 
it the appearance of a large maiiufacturing town. 

Leaving the knoll and crossing to a ridge that lies on the 
right, I have an uninterrupted view of Fire Hole Basin. It is 
circular in form, and al^out a mile in diameter, with the Fire Hole 
River running tlirough the center. The basin is filled with hot 
springs and small geysers, there being about a thousand within 
it, boiling and spouting from five to tliirty feet. 

From my position, I saw a number of uur party on the banks 
of the river not far distant, and I descended and found that they 
were examining a hot spring in the edgi:: of the river. It is thir- 
ty or forty feet in diameter, and the cold water of the river flows 
all about it. It is constantly pulsating,'every four or hve seconds, 
throwing a column of water ten to twenty feet in height, and at 
each pulsation it gives forth a puni])ing, rumbling sound. With 
no rcsj^ect to his vSatanic Majesty, ana with no disrespect to this 
beautdul freak of nature, we call it the Devil's Te.i Pot, l)ecause 
of its seeming apjiropriateness. 

Immediately aliout this spring is a beautiful cascade about thice 
feet HI lieight, rumnng clear across the river. The water falls in 
an unl)roken sheet, })rescnting a beautiful a])pearance. It is about 
tlnrlv feet above the Devil's Tea Pot. J lere it waii, that the 
Earl of Uunravcii caught .1 fine trout, and without moving from 



23 



where he stood, turned and (hpped it into the spring and cooked 
it upon the hook. 

We now turn towards the ridge we ha\'e just crossed, and as 
we near its base, we discover a hirge spring, thm-ty feet in diame- 
ter, flowing from beneath it. It is more than beautiful, all the 
tints of the rainbow being reflected from its surface, blue predom- 
inating. We ascend the ridge and havmg regained its sumit, we 
pause for a time to view again, the wonders b\- which we are 
surrounded. As we are about to depar-t, we hear a call from 
Oldham, and proceeding in the direction of the sound, find him 
gazing into a large circular l)asin, fort}' or fifty feet in diameter, 
that is filled with boiling hot chalk. It is called a "chalk vat." 
It has the appearance of a vat of chalk or mortar, and keeps boding 
away at a fearful rate. Leaving this vat, we go down a little 
ways, and find the Devil's Mud Pot, a vat filled with hot mud. 
It gives rise to the suggestion, that his Majesty has taken a con- 
tract to supjDly a wholesale establishment, with mud pies, and the 
way he flops and flirts it around gives credence to the belief that 
his reputation for close application to business is a merited one. 
I took a pole and pushed it into the mud in this vat about thirtv 
feet, and it was slowly sucked beneath the surface, when sudden- 
ly, with a loud thump, it was thrown entirely out upon the sur- 
face, while the mud flies and splashes in every direction, spoutin^- 
to the height of ten or fifteen feet. Discretion prompts us not to 
try the experiment again, and we returned .to camp. 

Myers and Mann have preceded us, and have supper in course 
of preparation when we arrive, and soon after Cowan and Dm- 
gee, who have been exploring on horse-back, join us. Each be- 
ing anxious to recount his or her adventures and observations 
during the day,, we agree to dicide by ballot who should first be 
entitled to the floor. After an unsucessful ballot, in which all 
got one vote, we agree to give Dingee the first chance, since he 
says he knows more about Satan than any of us. Just as he be- 
gins his narration, a flock of geese pass over us and aliglit not far 
distant. This promises roast goose, and all are interested in its 
flight, but none more so than Dingee, Cowan and Myers take 



M 



their guns and folldw them, and Diiigee, listlessly resumes his 
narrative Avith his eyes scanning the heavens for another flock. 
He tells lis that he and Cowan had visited the Lower Geyser Ba- 
sin and — the cry of "grrub pile," is wafted on the breeze, and with 
a bound and a cry of "next," he forfeits his honors and position 
as story teller for the evening and starts for his rations. While 
at supper we hear the reports of our hunters' guns, and soon af- 
ter they return to camp, each having secured a large goose. Af- 
ter supper we indulge in our favorite evening diversion, and at 
ten o'clock all are asleep. 

August i6. — At six o'clock, Dingee's dolorous yell awakes us 
to the indescribable beauties of our first morning in geyser land. 
The sun is shining brightly, and the air is perfectly calm. We 
desj^atch breakfast, and conclude to move our camp close up to 
the Spouting Geyser, and at eight o'clock we are on the move to 
the basin. We leave the east fork, and travel north-east a couple 
of miles and camp in a grove of pines about three hundred yards 
distant from Thud Geyser. This is a spouting geyser that throws 
a column of water about four feet in diameter, to a height of 
seventy-five or eighty feet, subsides, and again the immense col- 
umn of water is ejected. It gets its name from the noise it makes 
as it ejects the water, something like "ca-thud." Its temperature 
is 185 degrees. We picketed our horses, each cut a serviceable 
walking stick, and start to visit the geysers. 

We walk about a half a mile, and ascend a little mound where 
we see Fountain Geyser. This is a huge basin of one hundred 
and twenty-five feet in diameter, and a crater within the rim, of 
twenty-Ji\c feet in diameter. There is an elegantly carved rim 
aroinid the outer crater three feet high, and during an eruption 
the representation of a beautiful fount,' is most natural. Just now 
It is pel leclly calm, and we again see the beautiful rainbow tints 
reflected from the surface. As the sun rises the tints change, 
and to the observer, it presents a beautiful appearance, indeed. 
We walk around it and view with unutterable pleasure, the re- 
flected images of white clouds that are passing over head, that 



25 



mingling, with the colors reflected from its surface, make it an 
object, upon the beauties of which, the eye never tires of 
resting. 

As wie look upon its calm surface, lying so innocently spark- 
ling in the sun's rays, we cannot imagine that it will soon be 
spurting and charging as if a million dernons were at work in its 
depths. As we look, a white bubble emerges from the large, 
dark hole at the bottom, rises to the surface and breaks. Another 
soon follows, then others m quick succession, and as they keep 
coming faster and faster, the water becomes agitated and in the 
middle of the spring begins to boil. It grows hotter and hotter, 
and in a few minutes comes out with a rushing noise, and spouts 
forty or fifty feet in the air, throwing its columns in different di- 
rections at each spout. It is now boiling and splashing at a fear- 
ful rate and the mind of one involuntarily reverts to the story of 
Satan and his imps, pounding, thumping and pumping brimstone 
with infernal ingenuity. Our party becomes enthusiastic over 
the wild grandure of the scene, and as each geyser "shoots ofl" 
in the air, like a rocket, with a roaring and "whishing" sound, we 
salute it with a demoniacal yell. The whole country becomes ag- 
itated, the earth trembles and heaves, the air is rent with hideous 
groanings and rumblings, and it seems as if all nature was going 
to destruction with infernal rapidity. It is terrible. 

The eruption lasts for about an hour, when it seems the de- 
mons of power have become exhausted with their terrible throes, 
and sunk to rest. The water subsides, the surface is again calm- 
er, and in a few minutes everything is perfectly still. 

We now leave the Fountain Geyser, and ascend a mound that 
lies to the east a few hundred yards. From this we have an un- 
obstructed view of the whole basin. Just below us, we see 
steam issuing from a basin with a "thump-lump" sound and on 
descending to investigate, we find an enormous chalk vat. It is 
filled with a boiling hot substance, resembling chalk, and its ap- 
ance and smell of brimstone or magnesium, would naturally give 
rise to the remark of Arnold's, "It is where the devil mixes his 
mortar.*' Looking across the country to the other side of some 
3 



26 



timber, we see la the distance, probably a mile away, a geyser 
throwing a cohnnn of water and steam from one to two hundred 
feet high, we start to see it and on pa.-<sing the timber, come out 
into another small basin in which we find many beautiful sulphur 
springs. They are of different colors, each having a tint pecu- 
liar to itself. In one, orange would predominate, in another sky 
blue, others would be dark red or green, and all wem perfectly 
transparent. We gather some beautiful specimens here, then 
pass on a little ways to Dome Geyser. 

This geyser has at one time, been one of considerable power, 
as the overflow has formed a mound fifteen feet in diameter; 
fiom its summit rises a chimney about eighteen feet in height, 
from the top of which steam issues constantly. Mr. Mann wished 
to sketch it and Myers and myself climbed, to the top of it. 
From our position we could look down into its mouth, and could 
hear a rumbling sound in its depths. While we stood there the 
water, all of a sudden, and without any warning whatever, came 
spoutnig up above our heads. It may be presumed that we 
tumbled off in a hurry. 

We continue on our course to the geyser we saw from the 
mound on the other side of the timber, and soon reach it. It is situ- 
ated in the lower portion of this groupe, and from the fantastic 
architectural handiwork of nature here displayed, it is called Arch- 
itectural Fountain Geyser. It has an elegantly scalloped circular ba- 
sin about thirty feet in diameter at the base and twenty feet at the 
top or mouth, with vertical sides extending to an unknown depth. 
VVlicn we visited it, the water was calm, but was flowing over 
Its rim, and thence to terraced pools, sparkling in the bright sun- 
hght as it passed from one to the other and .finally forming two 
little rivulets, on either side of the mcund, and flowing away to 
the river. 

\Vc waited near this geyser most of the afternoon, expecting, 
to see an eru}:)tion but were disappointed. Hie ladies. Cowan 
and Dingee, had returned to camp but the_ remainder of us lin^ 
gcred near it, carving our names on the side of the basin and 
searching for specimens. On the sides of the little basins sur- 



27 



rounding the geyser, we found hundreds of names written with 
lead pencils. Some d-ited as far back as ^66 and '67, and yet the 
names were as perfect as when v/ritten. Seeing a stone lying in 
the bottom of one of the basins. I bared my arm and took it out 
and found on one side of it the name "Miss Ella Aylesworth," 
written in lead pencil. I thought to rub the name off easily, but 
on trying to do so, found that it wae mdellible, and it was possi- 
ble to remove it only with the blade of a knife. 

As we were wandering around, each by himself, we heard a 
yell from Myers that was, seemingly, prompted by the acutest 
pain. Looking in the direction whence the agonizing cry came, 
we beheld Myers hopping towards us with one foot firmly 
•clasped in his hands, and swearing terribly. Having reached 
us he began rolling and tumbling upon the ground, moaning, 
groaning and swearing as he writhed in contortions *As he 
struck a sitting posture we found he held his shoe in his hand. 
He pulled up his pants and began rolling down his stocking, and 
as he did so, the skm and flesh from the leg adhered to it. We 
then saw that he had stepped into a hot spring and that his lunl) 
was literally cooked. As the air struck the naked nerves, the 
pain rnust have been intense and again he writhed in agony. He 
grew calmer after a little, and ceased his rolling and swearing, 
when Arnold innocently asked '•' Was the spring hot ?" There 
was an awful significance in the answer, "Yes, y^u!" 

Finding it impossible for him to return to camp in this condi- 
tion, I told him that I would return to camp and send Dmgee 
with a horse to meet him. I returned to camp, leaving Arnold 
with him, and dispv.tched Dingee with a horse and in about an 
hour they returned. Mann bandaged the leg as best he could 
and having made him as comfortable as we could, under the cir- 
cumstances, we disposed of a hearty supper and, after the usual 
comparison of notes made during the day, retired. 

August i7.- — The usual dismal yawn of Dingee's awakes us 
at break ot day, and just as we arise we hear Thud Geyser fire 
its morning salute. Duiing breakfcist we determined to go to the 



28 



Upper Geyser Basin, distant about ten miles, and shortly after- 
wards all are bus}" packing up. When about ready to leave, we 
are surprised by the appearance of three men and a boy who ride 
mto camp. They prove to be Mr. Houston and party from 
Bear Gulch. He gives us the particulars of the Big Hole fight, 
the first that we had heard of it. He said that he did not appre- 
hend any trouble from Indians, and as he and party are also en 
route for the Upper Basin, we determine to travel in company. 
We were glad of the acquisition to our party, as Mr. Houston is 
thoroughly conversant with every part of Geyserland, as he had 
visited it yearly for a number of years. 

We soon reach the Fire Hole River which here flows from the 
east, and we follow up its course by a good trail two miles or more 
till we reach Devil's Half Acre, which lies cm the other side of tke 
riverfrom us. Arnold and myself wade the stream and the par- 
ty continue on up the river. We ascend an eminence two hun- 
dred feet high, perhaps, when a terrible rumbling sound tells us 
that we have reached the Devil's Half Acre and the Mammoth 
Hot Spring. 

The DeviFs Half Acre is thirty or forty feet square with walls 
of rock twenty or thirty feet high, surrounding it. It is horrible 
to stand on top of those walls and look down mto the boiling, 
seething waters below, and one shudders and draws away at the 
first glimpse of the terrible commotion. It is certainly appropri- 
ately named. 

Leaving this we visit the Mammoth Hot Spring, about one 
hundred and fifty yards away, and above. This we find as beau- 
tiful *as the other is hideous. It is a basin shaped like an in- 
verted saucer and three hundred feet in diameter at the top, and 
is the largest hot spring in the world. Its elevation is about fifty 
feet and the water is constantly flowing over the summit at all 
points, ffdling into little basins as it descends. Words are inade- 
quate to convey the faintest idea of the beauties of this spring. 
The one just visited may justly be regarded as combining the hor- 
rois of a hell; in this is blended the beauties of a heaven. Look- 
ing into its depths we see the diflferent rainbow tints, commencing 



29 



with orange next the walls and ending in the center with dark 
blue. As the waters flow over the sides of the basin, the colors 
are yet more distinct and the line of separation is more distinctly 
disernable. First we notice the orange color which flows over a 
space of about ten feet, then passing around the basin we come 
to a space in which the waters arc green, then follows red then 
blue and so on, each of the tints of the rainbow coming in regu- 
lar succession. One never tires of its beauties. The diflferent 
colors are not attributed to the position in which the rays of the 
sun strike the water, but rather to the minerals which the water 
contains, hence the colors are never changing. 

We are loth to leave this most beautiful of the springs, but 
the advance of the party hastens our departure and we again 
passed up the river, seeing many springs as we go, to a point 
about two miles from where we crossed, and recross to the trail. 
Here we find Dingee and Oldham waiting for us with horses, and 
mounting, we soon overtake the party. We follow the left bank 
of the river for three miles and then the trail follows the base of 
the mountains by a zig-zag route for a distance of two miles 
when we again strike the river and after following up its course 
a mile we again leave it to our right and ascend the mountains 
on our left for a mile and a half when we come out on to the Up- 
per Basin and the river again which \ye follow up two miles and 
cross the river, proceed up the stream a short distance and go into 
camp in a cluster of pmes near Castle Geyser. This is a most 
desirable camping ground for a small party, as there is plenty of 
wood, shelter from the sun and rain, and hot and cold water 
within fifteen paces. Back of this camp about half a mile distant, 
there is an excellent pasturage for horses, consisting of a heavily 
grassed meadow of about two miles in circumference, in the mid- 
dle of which is a large cold water spring. 

We are now in Wonderland, and as we look around us and 
see the numerous geysers in full state of eruption, with others in 
quick succession throwing forth their vast columns of water, we 
realize that the Lower Basin is insignificant in comparison to 
this, 



30 



As we pitch our tents Mr. Houston points out the principal 
points of interest and as he is telHng us of Old Faithful, a rumb- 
ling noise is heard, and he exclaims "OlTshe goes!'' and a col- 
umn of water one hundred and fifty feet high, is suddenly thrown 
into the air. We, with a shout, drop everything and make haste 
to see it, but on being told that an eruption will not take place 
again for sixty-five muiutes we return to carnp and prepare din- 
ner. Alter dinner we, on consulting our watches, find that we 
have but ten minutes to walk the. half mile that lies between us 
and Old Faithful and we make haste, as it is known that the en- 
tertainment is given at the exact moment advertised, with no 
postponement in deference to any thing. 

\Vc find a mound thirty or forty feet high, with little basins all 
around it which catch the water as it falls during an eruption. 
We pause, and hear beneath us a rumbling, rushing sound, and 
the water rises six or seven feet in the air and subsides a moment. 
Again it rises, still higher, and again subsides, each time seem- 
ingly gaining power until, with a roaring, rushing sound it 
sends a column of water five or six feet in diameter to a height 
of one hundred feet. The eruption continues for the space of fif- 
teen or twenty minutes, being accompanied throughout, with its 
horrible groaning, then the water falls back into the little basins, 
and all is quiet agahr for the time. 

We now visit in turn, the Giantess, that throws a column 
two hundred and sixty feet, the Bee Hive, with a spout of two 
hunched and nineteen feet by actual measurement, and two other 
smaller geysers called, rebjjectively the Lion and Lioness, and 
then return to camp. Gathered about the camp fire during the 
evening, Houston gives us an elaborate discription of the won- 
ders of thi^ region, the half of which we have not seen, and re- 
lates many remarkable incidents that have taken place within its 
limits. 

The party being tired they, with the exception' of Arnold, 
Houston and myself, retire at nine o'clock, but we cross the river 
to see the eruption of the Grand Geyser by moonlight. We 



8! 



wait patiently until twelve o'clock but are disappointed and re- 
turn to camp and "turn in." 

About 3 A. M. we hear a yell, " Off she goes," and we jump 
to our feet at the warning sound of old Castle Geyser, which is 
about to belch forth his pent up wrath. We hear the premoni- 
tor)' rumbling and groaning, the earth jars and trembles with 
the mighty force below it; the noise becomes more distinct, and 
the throes of the earth more violent; in a moment a tremendous 
noise and roar like thunder follows, the earth gives a quick spas- 
modic quiver of agony, and a column of water tw^enty feet in di- 
ameter is thrown into the air one hundred feet high. For ten 
minutes it holds it in that position, when, having exhausted its 
fur}', it drops back to the surface. With the same hollow, rumb- 
ling sound, a column of steam follows, shooting suddenly to a 
height of two hundred feet, and then gradually ascending to a 
distance of three hundred or four hundred feet, and rolling away 
with the upper air currents. 

The moon is at the full, and as we are standing in the shadow 
of the jet of steam, we have one of the most strikingly beautiful 
views that ever the eye of man beheld. It seems like a solid col- 
umn of silver. The steam soon passes away and soon again still- 
ness reigns. We retire again, but not to sleep, and as we medi- 
tate upon the wonders of this more than wonderful region, we 
cannot but be reminded of the w^ords of the psalmist, " What is 
man, that thou art mindful of him ? " 

August i8. — A 3"ell, not unlike an Indian war whoop, from 
Dingee, routes us out at 7 o'clock, and we are soon ready to do 
ample justice to our geyser coffee, potatoes boiled in the hot 
springs, and bacon, Dingee remarks that he has a " soft thing " 
of it now in the cuhnary department, as he does the cooking and 
dish-washing without fire. 

We pass the day in wandering from point to point, inspecting 
the many wonders that are constantly found, each investigating 
for himself, and all intent on collecting specimens of rocks, min- 
erals, vegetable growth, etc., and return to camp about 4 p. m. 



M 



Up to this time we have had the pleasantest weather imagina- 
ble, which is certainly surprising, since, owing to the moist cli- 
mate and immense clouds of steam constantly arising, it can rain 
with as little preparation as any place in the world. As we came 
to camp, it had the appearance of rain, and, although the sun was 
shining brightly then, m ten minutes time it was pouring torrents. 
The pines, however, afford us an excellent protection, and after 
the rain ceases we dispose of supper, and carry the dishes to a 
spring for washing, which is done by throwing them into the 
water and poking them about with a stick for a few minutes, and 
remove them perfectly cleansed. 

We had been expecting to witness an eruption of Grand Gey- 
ser, but, as yet, had been disappointed. After supper, while lying 
beneath a tree in camp, I saw, in the direction of this geyser, a 
column of water suddenly spout up some 30 feet high and then 
subside. With the shout, " There goes the Grand Geyser," we 
start pell-mell to see it. We cross the river on a run, and pro- 
ceed some five hundred yards towards the mountain ere it is 
reached. 

This is Hayden's favorite geyser, and, as regards beauty and 
nice fountain work, it is far superior to anything in Geyser Land. 
Houston says that it has changed in the last few years, and does 
better work now than it ever did before. As we approach it 
"goes off" again, spouting forty or fifty feet high, then subsid- 
ing. Again it spouts, and again subsides. Again and again it 
throws up its immense column that is five or six feet in diameter, 
and in the space of thirty minutes it has made nine eruptions, 
each coming with greater power and spouting higher than that 
which preceded it, until finally, with a mighty roar, it throws its 
column of water one hundred and twenty-five feet high. It holds 
it in tliat position for five or eight minutes, then drops back again 
to its basin. This geyser differs from the others in the manner of 
its eruption, and in the fact of its having so many eruptions in 
such a short space of time lies its beauty and popularity. 

As the water recedes, wc step to view the crater, and see noth- 
ing but a large hole in the earth with sides sloping to the center. 



93 



Mr. Cowan and Oldham step down into it and commence carv- 
ing their names, when suddenly, without warning, the water 
rises beneath them. It may be imagined that they did not stop 
to finish their carving. The water fills the basin and then be- 
comes calm. 

We return to camp and witness an eruption of Steam Geyser, 
but as this is constantly at work, and not far distant, it soon loses 
its novelt}'. It is continually giving off its thumping, pumping 
sound, and we soon wish that it would take a rest, or give us one. 
Night and day we hear that same monotonous thumping. 

In camp we prevail upon Mr. Houston to relate some of his 
experience in the Rock}' Mountains, which are full of interest 
and romance. We retire to lay awake listening to the unearthly 
sounds that we hear all around us rather than to rest. 

August 19. — This is Sunday, the day of rest, but nature here 
does not heed it and keeps up her gratuitous exhibitions without 
intermission. We soon tire of lying around camp and again sal- 
ly lorth on a tour of discovery. We return shortly and conclude 
that we will do our washing since such an opportunity for "boil- 
ing clothes" will not be presented again soon. Emma and Ida 
put their clothes in a pillow case, Dingee took off his blouse and 
tied a large stone in it and I finished tying it with my handker- 
chief; Arnold also removed his jacket and we repaired to the 
laundry, Old Faithful. We hear the preparatory rumbling and 
the waters rise a few feet above the surface. Mr. Houston now 
gives the command to cast them into the water. It goes down and 
remains so long that we begin to feel uneasy, and Dingee begins 
to lament his loss and to bless the man who ''put the job up" on 
us. Mr. Houston remarks that it will be all right, and the next 
instant, with a rush and a roar she "goes ofT" and the clothes, 
jacket, rags, &c., mixed in every conceivable shape, shoot up to 
a distance ot a hundred feet or more and fall with a splash in the 
basins below. The water subsides, and we fish out the clothing 
which we find as nice and clean as a Chinaman could wash it 
with a week's scrubbing. Dingee rejoiceth. 
4 



S4 



Wishing to experiment, we collect an immense quantity of rub- 
bish and chop it into the crater. We have filled it to the top 
with at least a thousand pounds of stones, trees, stumps, &c., and 
now sit down to await further developments. At the exact time 
advertised, sixty-five minutes from the time of the last eruption, 
the earth begins to tremble, we hear the rush again, "off she 
goes," and away go rocks, trees and rubbish to a height of seven- 
ty-five or eighty feet in the air. Old Faithful seems to have 
been angered by such an unwarrantable proceed ure on our parts, 
or wishes to show us how frutile are our attempts to check his 
power and furnishes an entertainment of unusual magnitude and 
duration. 

We find many curious specimens of petrifaction here, and it 
seems that any article frequently immersed in these waters soon 
becomes petrified. Ida finds a petrified handkerchief that is per- 
fectly white, and every thread of which is distinctly visible. 
Mann finds two more imbedded in the rocks, and cuts them out. 
Mr. Cowan finds a petrified mouse, and Mr. Oldham finds a nice 
specimen of writing paper and part of an envelope, and a rab- 
bit's ear, and others find many very remarkable curiosities. 

We next visit the Giantess, which is said to be the finest geyser 
in the basin. It has a crater twenty by twenty-five feet, and 
throws a column of water two hundred and sixty feet in height. 
We did not witness an eruption of this geyser; we could see a 
great hole in the earth, some seventy-hve or eighty feet deep, 
filled to tlic brim with clear hot water, atthe bottom of which we 
could see a dark cavern from which *the water rushes during an 
eruption, which latter usually lasts from six to twelve hours. An 
eruption from this one geyser is well worth weeks of waiting to 
witness. 

We visit the Bee Hive Geyser and witness an eruption, and the 
party now separates. Dingee, one of Houston's party, named 
Sterling Henderson, and myself, start for a place upon the moun- 
tain back of tlie (Jianlcss, whence we see steam issuing above the 
tree-tops. We Msccnd the mountain some one thousand feet 
above the level of the basin, and i\nd a large hot spring about 



35 



seventy- five feet in diameter, the waters oi which are boiling 
away at a fearful rate. 

There is no evidence that this spring spouts, but it is constantly 
overflowing, and the water, as it runs down the mountain side, 
kills everything with which it comes in contact. There is a sed- 
imentary deposit, that it has made from time to time, in its differ- 
ent paths, that is about three hundred yards wide and iive or 
six hundred yards long. The water does not cover this area, but 
is confined to a narrow channel five or six feet wide, which it fills 
to the depth of two or three inches. The channel must be con- 
stantly shifting, the water seeking a new outlet as each channel 
is filled. The sides and bottom of this little stream are of varied 
colors, owing to the presence of mineral substances, and are very 
beautiful. 

We sit down to gaze for a time on its wondrous beauties, but 
are aroused by a prolonged shout in the distance. Dingee ex- 
claims: " There goes Giant Geyser !" and a look in the direc- 
tion indicated verifies the statement. It is two miles distant, but 
we bound awa}^ on the run. We soon reach it, and find the old 
fellow tearing away at a fearful rate. The rest of the party have 
beaten us there, and we find them sitting beneath the trees watch- 
ing the fearful convulsions of this more than grand geyser. 
Words are inadequete to give but a tithe of its iirandeur. It is 
indescribably awful. The eruption continued about two hours. 

We next visited Grotto Geyser, situated on a mound of pure 
white sihca, and encircled by a cluster of hot springs. Its unique 
formation must be seen to be appreciated. 

After supper we again visit Old Faithful and witness another 
eruption, then return to camp ; see Grand Geyser in full play, 
and tu*ed of the repetitions of the wonders of t'^e day, we soon 
are sound asleep, totally obvious to the terrors by which we were 
surrounded or the surprises held in store for us. 

August 3o. — At nine o'clock Houston informed us that he 
and party were going back by the way of Yellowstone Lake 
and Falls and wishes to know if any of our party wants to ac- 



36 



company him. Arnold, Dingee and myself conclude to visit the 
lake, distant forty-five miles, and then return to the Lower Gey- 
ser Basin and rejoin the party, which would remain there for us. 
We are soon in the saddle and at ten o'clock bid the party good 
bye and are off. Just as we leave camp old Castle Geyser fires a 
farewell salute, and as we pass the Grotto, Riverside and others 
we see them doing excellent work, worthy an aspirant to politi- 
cal honors. 

As we reach the point where the Mammoth spring lies imme- 
diately opposite us, we cross the river and take a last view of 
this remarkable body of water. We linger for a time loth to 
leave, then resume our way down the river, which we recross, 
and at one P. M. are at our camp in the Lower Basin. 

Here we ti nd Mr. Cowan's dog Dido, which we had left on 
shiftinir our camp to the Upper Basin. For a time she disputed 
our entrance into camp, but on recognizing Cowan's horse which 
I was riding, she concluded that matters were all right and per- 
mitted us to enter. The faithful brute was almost starved as we 
had left nothing for her to eat and she had been without food since 
Friday. 

We prepare dinner and Dingee lays in provisions for a four 
days' trip. At 2 130, we are again on the road, taking the dog 
Avith us. 

We leave the Lower Basin by the Bozeman route, and travel 
up the east fork of the Fire Hole River, seeing numerous extinct 
geysers and sulphur springs on either side of the trail. We fol- 
low the course of the stream for a distance of ten miles, when we 
reach tlie foot of the mountains separating the valley of the east 
fork of Fire Hole River from that of the Yellowstone. 

As we begin the ascent of the mountains, an old man suddenly 
steps from the bushes into tlie trail before us. He was the 
most wretched looking specimen of humanity I had ever seen. 
Mr. Houston grasped his gun, and the stranger saluted us in a 
iVietidly way and drew near. He told us that his name was 
John Shrivelcy, direct from the JJl^ick Hills. He giiVc us a moun- 
taineer'* account of hia travels ^ind concJudod by asking Mr. 



Houston if we had any spare provisions. Houston's party did not 
have any, but Arnold told him that our camp was at Tower Ba- 
sin, where he would find an abundance of "grub" and that he 
could help himself. He did not tarry long, and receiving direc- 
tions from us as to the right trail, passed on. 

We continued the ascent of the mountains. We cross them 
soon and complete the descent by night fall and camp on a little 
creek, called Warm Spring Creek. We picket the horses, dis- 
pose of supper, and after the usual talk till eleven o'clock, turn in, 
satisfied with the day's travel of thirty-five miles. 

August 21. — We arise to an early breakfast and bestir our- 
selves for the day's journey. While we are making preparations, 
Arnold takes his hook and tries to fish for trout in the stream 
upon which we are encamped. He succeeds in taking but a half 
dozen small ones. They are smaller than the common mount- 
ain trout and have small red spots upon their sides. ]Mr. Hous- 
ton says that this is the only place in the mountains where this 
species of fisf? is caught. They cannot get down this stream as 
there are boiling hot springs in this stream, one half mile below, 
and neither can any others get to them. We found that they 
w«re of excellent flavor. 

Soon after breakfast we again take to the saddle and strike out 
on a swinging gallop for the Yellowstone Lake, ten miles distant. 
Three or four miles from camp we suddenly come upon a party 
from Bozeman. It proves to be Storey and Riche's party, con- 
sisting of five men with guide, and four pack animals. We learn 
that they are en route for the geysers, where we tell them thev 
will find our party, and with the usual mountain salutation "so 
long," we pass on. Three miles brings us to the summit of a rise 
from which we have our first view of the Yellowstone River. 
We can see it winding to tlip north for five or six miles and 
from our position it looks like a river of silver. Its nearest jwint 
is but a quarter of a mile below us, and we are soon upon its 
banks. To the left of us we see a mud geyser, and it being not 
far distant, we visit it for the purpose of investigation. 



38 



We find that the basin is circular in form, and about sixty feet 
in diameter. It is filled with boiling hot mud and in an eruption 
goes through the same j^rocess as a water geyser but frequently 
with more astonishmg effects upon the beholder, as the mud flies 
in every direction, and should a particle touch the skin the sensa- 
tion is the same as produced by dropping burnnig sealing-wax 
upon it. 

We pass around this geyser to the left and Mr. Houston points 
out the location of the Devil's Well, which we set out to visit. 

It is upon the side of the mountain, one hundred and fifty feet 
above the trail, and an examination reveals an enormous hole ni 
the ground about twenty feet in diameter and forty feet deep, 
with perpendicular walls. Steam is constantly issuing from its 
mouth, but as it is blown aside for an instant, we see the boiling, 
seething waters at the bottom. They are surging and rushing at 
a fearful rate, and reminds one of the splashing waters of the 
'- tail-race " of a mill. The steam arises in pulfs, like that from 
an engine, and we hear, in the .depths, horrible clinking and 
clanking, as if the devil was busily employed in i|>anuf:icturing 
chains. The well is certainly correctly named. 

Just below us we visit and inspect with no little curiosity a 
number of Arsenic Springs. Everything about them is covered 
with a slimy green substance, that gives it a very disagreeable 
appearance. We did not loiter here, as the steam arising from 
the waters is sickening, and very poisonous. We remount, re- 
turn to the river bank, and take the trail leading to the lake, dis- 
tant six miles south, up the river. 

As we are push'ng ahead at a brisk canter, we suddenly meet 
a mountaineer, who is driving a number of loose horses. We 
stop, and Houston advances and makes inquiry as to who he is 
and where bound. The man gives a satisfactory account of him- 
self and passes on. Shortly afterward another man emerges from 
tlie bushes ahead. He is a tall, powerfully ])uilt man, and as he 
rode carelessly along, with his long riile crossed in front ot him, 
he was a j)icture. He was dressed in a complete suit of l)uck- 
skin, and wore a flaming red neckerchief, a broad sojnbrcro^ fas- 



39 



tened up on one side with a large eagle feather, and a pair of 
beautifully beaded moccasins. The costume of the man, his self- 
confident pose, and the quick penetrating glance of his keen 
black eye, would give the impression that he was no ordinary 
mountaineer. We meet; Houston recognizes him, it is the 
world renowned Rocky Mountain hunter and scout, Texas Jack. 
While Houston was in conversation with him, our party sat si- 
lently staring at him. This is our first sight of the man, wkom, 
above all others, we were anxious to see, and we were in a meas- 
ure excusable for our seeming impertinence. He inquired for 
"spare grub;'' we had none to give him or sell, but told him 
that Storey and Riche's party were but a little ways ahead of 
him, and he could be provided for by them. He bade us good- 
day and pushed ahead. 

We ag-ain struck a canter, and half a mile further on encount- 
ered two more men, both of whom were dressed in buck-skins 
and wore large sombrerocs. They told us that they were Eng- 
lishinen, traveling through the United States for pleasure and ad- 
venture, and that they, with Texas Jack as guide, had come 
through the mountains from Cheyenne to Yellowstone Lake tor 
the purpose of fishing and hunting. They were now en route 
for the geysers, and on telling them that they would meet our 
party there, who would supply them with provisions, continued 
on their road. 

We now left the river, which turns abruptly to the left, and 
began the ascent of the mountains. Two and a half miles further 
on we reach the summit, and pause to feast our eyes on as pretty 
a scene as mortal ever beheld, A thousand feet below us, stretch- 
ing away to the south thirty miles, lie the placid waters of Yel- 
lowstone Lake. It is so calm that it looks like a huge mirror 
surrounded by verdure-covered mountains, that tower thousands 
of feet above it. Words cannot tell of the loveliness of the scene. 
Mr. Houston says that although he has visited it every year for 
ten years, he never fails to stop where we now are and drink in 
the beautiful view. We linger for some time, and note the many 
points of beauty, and watch the hundreds of water-fowl floatmg 



40 



upon its surface, then, at the call of our guide, we begin the de- 
scent. About two hundred feet above the level of the lake, we 
find a nice camping place in a grove of small pines, where there 
is wood and cold spring water in abundance. 

Supper is soon ready and the familiar cry of "grub pile" was 
never sweeter, and it may be remarked with all truthfulness, 
that it was the only thing sweet about the supper. Dingee, with 
his morbid dread of "loosing that twenty pounds," is usually the 
first to respond, and this occasion was not an exception. He 
drops on the grass, lunges for' the bread, takes a bite, spits it out, 
and throws his whole soul into one prolonged sulphureous oath. 
We are astonished, and, through the force of habit acquired in 
the basins, draw back in expectation of an eruption by Dingee. 
Just as each has his mouth in proper position for exclaiming 
"there she goes," which we could each see formed upon the lips 
of the others, Dingee's breath gives out and he is of necessity, 
compelled to stop swearing. Arnold plays a good second as he 
takes a bite, and I investigate a mouthful. It is two thirds salt. 
Dingee indignantly asks if I had put all the salt into the flour sack, 
and I plead guilty to one cup only. I explained further that I 
had put in four cups of sugar to sweeten it, and light begins to 
dawn when I learn that the sugar was taken from another salt 
sack. Arnold materially assists our investigations by saying that 
he had put in two more cups of sugar from that same sack, jcnak- 
ing in all, six pints of salt to eighteen pounds of flour. The pres- 
ence of the milk in the coacoanut is thus fully acounted for. 

It is, perhaps, unnecessary to state that no one cares for bread 
at dinner, and immediately after, we make arrangements with 
Houston for exchanging salt for flour, with fair results. 

Tiic whole 2^arty arc soon collected on the beach below camp, 
and start f )r a stroll. Arnold, who, it has probably been noted, 
is the Izaak Walton of the party, goes fishing, and the remain- 
der of us gather specimens of the stones and petrified wood, 
Dingee and myself collect an immense quantity of rubbish, but 
had we known that it would all goto enrich Chief Joseph's cab- 
inet, we certainly would not have lugged them so far. That 
statement may be relied upon as fact. 



41 



We follow the beach, which is about thirty yards wide and 
passes clear around the lake, to a point about three miles from 
where we struck it. We find an old log house, and near it a sail- 
boat turned bottom upwards. The owner of both had gone to 
the Black Hills and left everything. We found tools with which 
to repair the boat, but concluded that it would be of no avail, as 
we were expecting to remain but a little while. While we were 
inspecting the premise?, one of the party had found, in a slough 
near by, a row boat which we carried to the lake and launched. 
Three of us manned it, and pulled out for deep water. 

We had our fishing tackle along, and it was no little amuse- 
ment to catch the large salmon trout, with which the lake 
abounds. Our bait was grasshoppers, and as it touched the water 
a salmon would bound out of the water, seize it, and the way he 
would go until brought up by the end of the line. Then follow 
the trolling to get it into the boat. It is exquisite sport. We caught 
many that were eighteen or twenty inches long, and would weigh 
nine or ten pounds. 

Houston points out the many points of interest, and gives a 
graphic description of the noteworthy objects that surround us. 

At the south end of the lake we see Mount Evarts, the 
place where Evarts became separated from his party and got lost. 
It is said that he wandered for thirty days with little or no food, 
and was finally picked up on the other side of the lake. Look- 
ing to the east we see in the distance, probably forty or fifty miles 
away, the Old Man of the Mountain. It is a mountain in the 
shape of a human face, turned towards the sky. It is as perfect 
as if chiseled. 

The profile of this wonderful image as seen against the horizon, 
is formed by the configuration of a chain of mountains, and being 
assured that we could see more of the outline from the mountains 
back of the log house, turn and are soon at the point indicated. 
Looking east we can see the whole outline of the form, ?ind it is 
truly a remarkable image. The body, face and limbs, wit'a knees 
slightly bent, and . feet, are very distinctly portrayed. It is well 
worth going to see and no tourist that visits this lake should go 

5 



42 



away without beholding" it. Where we stand is the best point 
for observation. 

We return to our camp and Houston points out Steamboat 
Spring, which stands on the north-east shore of the lake about 
twelve miles distant. It is so called from the noise it makes du- 
ring an eruption, which is not unlike the whistle of a steamboat. 
We heard it the following- morning and it sounded to me like a 
bugle call in the distance. We would liked very much to have 
visited it, but having no means of transportation across the lake 
other than a small, leaky boat, and it not being easily accessible 
by land, we were compelled to forego the pleasure. 

On this side of the spring is a place called Specimen Beach, 
where there are found many curious petrifactions, such as fish, 
shells, wood, etc., but we cannot visit them. 

Shortly after we return to camp, or at about five o'clock, a 
lipple is seen upon the lake and the wind springs up from the 
south-east. Houston remarks that we would soon witness a 
scene that would be grand in the extreme. The wind continues 
to rise and in a little time the whole lake is lashed into the wildest 
fury. We go down to the beach and spend some time in watch- 
ing the "white caps,'' rolling towards us. The pelicans, swans 
and gulls come sailing towards us on the crest of the waves, and 
come within thirty or forty yards of the shore, then rising from 
the crest of a wave, sail away with a shrill cry that, mingling 
with the roar of the wind and waves, makes one's blood curdle. 

As we stood here watching the commingling of the raging 
elements, we silently returned thanks that an all-wise Providence 
had prevented our launching the frail sail-boat, as it now would 
ha\e been bottom upwards in the waters of the lake, with us 
bene ith it, if Dingee had insisted on another exhibition of his 
seaman-like (jualities. 

vSoon we hear the soft voice of Dingee sweetly warbling above 
tlic howling ot the storm, "grub pile" and we return to camp. 
We iiad neglec ted to picket our horses, and after supper start in 
search of them. We searched until ten o'clock without fintling 
them and returned to camp convinced that they had been stam- 



43 



peded, or stolen. We had nothing but a pack mule letl us, and 
he, poor fellow, was anxious to go also, and all night long kept 
up his tramp, tramp at the end of his lariat and would frequent- 
ly give vejit to his longings by a prolonged bray. 

Reaching camp Dingee sat down and began to dismally be- 
wail his hard luck. We tried to console him with the assurance 
that he would now have an opportunity to walk off that super- 
fluous amount of flesh and thus fulfill his prophecy of losing 
twenty pounds, but he refused to be coiiforted. We sadly turn 
in, and all is quiet for a time, when a voice breaks the stillness 
with "A Starry Night for a Ramble," while Dingee growls and 
the mule brays. 

August 22. — At daylight the party were up and went in 
search of the horses. I remain in camp and relieve Dingee in the 
cuisine. In the course of time I have a frugal repast prepared 
and spread upon the ground. I gave the prolonged howl that 
usually brings us to meals, and as the call penetrates the valleys 
and is reverberated from hill to hill, an indistinct answer is heard 
afar ofFdown the lake shore. Again I call, and again comes the 
answer, "nearer, clearer than before." It is Dingee, who, with 
the rest of the party some distance in the rear, soon come hastily 
into camp, but without the horses. The whole party were sullen, 
and we sit down to our meal in no enviablje frame of mind. A 
prospective tramp of thirty-five miles, over the rugged mountain 
is not cheering. The name of the Creator was pronounced, but 
not in grace, as they contemplated the scanty fare. "A short 
horse is soon curried'* may in a measure be given as one reason 
for the hastily despatched meal, but I attributed it to the fact of 
the entire absence of horse. 

We silently consider for a time, the undesirable state of affairs 
then consult together. We have an alternative. It is either to 
walk or take the little boat and go down the Yellowstone to the 
point at which we struck it as we came. Neither suits Houston 
and he proposes another hunt for the horses. We separate and 
scour the woods in every direction, but with no better result than 
before. 



44 



Returning to camp I proposed to Houston that we turn the 
mule loose, believing that it could find the horses, if it had but 
one eye. Houston acting upon the idea, jumped upon its back 
and gave it the lariat. It immediately struck for the timber, and 
took a bee line for two and a half miles and walked in among 
the horses. In the course of half an hour Houston returns and 
we give a yell that shakes the hills and causes the dry boughs in 
the forest to fall in a copious shower. Dingee cries with joy and 
it is with the utmost difiiculty that we restrain him from embracing 
the mule. I allay his exuberance of spirits by promising him my 
share of diimer. 

We are soon ready for our departure and take a lingering look 
at the lake. The storm has ceased, and it now lies as calm as if 
nothing had ever caused a ripple upon its surface. The most 
vivid imagination would fail to portray its beauties. 

We turn mountainward and retrace the course that we came. 
At the summit we stop and take the last long gaze at the Yellow- 
stone Lake, the finest scene in the Rocky Mountains. We start 
our horses on a canter and are soon at the Mud Spring and Dev- 
il's Well .again. These we pass without stopping, and push 
onward towards the Yellowstone Falls. 

Five miles further down the riv^r^ we come to Sulphur Mount- 
ain, which we stop for a time to examine. It is about one thous- 
and feet high, and fully four miles in circumference at the base, 
and receives its name from the amount of sulphur found in the 
minerals of which it is principally composed. The summit is 
cojnposed of soil, upon which a few stunted pine trees grow, but 
the base and sides are composed of almost pure sulphur, the per- 
centage being about eighty. We find the sulphur in the form of 
crystals, resembling honey-comb more than anything else, and 
are very pretty. It is hot, and I am convinced (not by any ex- 
jieriinenls made in person, however,) that it will cure any case of 
^even-year itch known, even if it has attained its majority: that 
i^ of three terms '-landing. On the west side of the base of the 
mountain, there is a hot boiling spring aL:)out twenty-five feet 
long by ten feet wide. It was quiet, and the surface had a phos- 



45 



phorescent appearance, which suggested the remark that if the 
devil should dip one of his victims m its w^aters and set him on 
fire, he certainly would burn forever. 

Close to this is another sulphur spring that is pumping and 
threshing away industriously. The smoke and steam arising 
from this emits a fearful stench, and we do not care to get too 
close. Here we gather some nice crystals and remount. Hous- 
ton remarks that Satan owns this country, and advises us to make 
peace with his Majesty; at least temporarily. Our observation 
here convinces us that if Moody and Sankey could bring this 
mountain, with its springs, and their congregations in juxtaposi- 
tion, their labor would be greatly decreased and their converts 
millions. 

As we leave the mountain we, at a little distance from it, cross 
Alum Creek, a small stream flowing from the west. Houston 
says that near its head there is a spring, the waters of which are 
strongly impregnated with alum. He says a mouthful of the 
creek water will pucker one's mouth so that it will be impossible 
for him ever to attain the accomplishments of a third-class whist- 
ler. We were perfectly willing to take his word for it, and did 
not experiment. 

Five miles beyond this we approach the Yellowstone Falls, 
the roaring of which we hear before we get near them. The 
noise grows louder as we advance, and shortly we strike the river 
at the first rapids, about two hundred feet above the Upper Fall. 
Here we find that the trail divides, one turning to the left, which 
is the Bozeman trail, and the other following the river. Taking 
the right hand trail, we cross a creek, then ascend a steep mountain 
about five hundred yards, and camp beneath the wide spreading 
branches of a large spruce pine. It is now three o'clock, and we 
unsaddle, and proceed to get dinner. Dingee discovers a notice 
posted on the tree, which he reads for our benefit. It reads as 
follows; 

Tourists are requested not to break ^ destroy or take away any 
specimens^ tender a penalty of Jifty dollars jine^ or one year in 
the penitentiary. By order of the Superi?itcndent of the Na- 



46 



tio7ial Park. We tell Dingee to make a memorandum of it, 
and he quietly observes that I can make up my mind for a year's 
sojourn in the penitentiary. We sit down to grub, but you can 
rest assured that our horses are securely picketed first. 

Dinner over w^e start to view the falls. We ascend the mount- 
ain a little farther, then turn to the right some two hundred yards, 
and get our first glimpse of the Lower Falls of the Yellowstone. 
We are now fully three thousand feet above the falls, and from 
our position the scenery is indescribably grand. The river wind- 
ing through the canyon below us looks like a shining thread of 
silver, as it glistens in the sun. It seems that one could step 
across it, and we can hardly credit the statement of Houston 
when he informs us that it is over one hundred feet wide. At this 
point we have the finest view of the canyon that it is possible to 
obtain, and to me, there is no better point from which to view 
the falls. We are standing above, and are looking distinctly down 
upon them. The water above is dashed into a turbulent, foamy 
cascade, by its ragged bed and lightning speed, but just at the 
ed^e of the fall it becomes smooth, as if pausing in awe at the 
dizying height from which it must spring, then leaps perpendic- 
ularly three hundred and ninety feet to its narrow bed below. 
Down the river, as far as the eye can reach, there rises, to the 
height of two thousand feet above the river, a grand, vast wall, 
so gorgeously colored and tmted that no painting or description 
can ever do it justice. Such is the force of the descent that the 
water, ere it reaches the rocky bed below, is dissolved into s[)ray, 
and a cloud of it hangs constantly beneath the precipice. As the 
evening sun strikes this we see a perfectly formed rainbow. It 
is gorgeously beautiful. 

We sit here for at least an hour, and when we rise to return 
to camp Houston tells us that he and party are going to C ark's 
Fork. We go back to camp, and bid them good bye, and at five 
o'clock they are off. 

Arnold, Dingee and myself, now start for the Upper Falls, 
alxHit a half nnle, or perhaj^s less, above us. These falls will not 
bear comparison with the Lower Falls, but they are, neverthe- 



a 



less, strikingly beautiful. The water above flows calmly till with- 
in a few hundred feet of the falls, when it suddenly breaks, is 
lashed in a fury, and rushes headlong, as if bent upon destruc- 
tion, and leaps outward over the precipice. It falls one hundred 
and eighty feet. Dingee proposes that we descend to the foot of 
the fall, and by dint of hard work, clinging to the jagged rocks 
and crevices, with fingers and toes, we make the descent. Here 
we have a finer view than from above, and the setting sun greatly 
exhances the beauty of the scene. 

As we sit watching the water as it strikes in the bed, we see 
many large trout vainly endeavoring to ascend the cataract. 
They will spring six or eight feet up the sheet of water and drop 
back, then try it again with the same result. They seemingly 
never learn by their failures nor tire of their futile eflforts. We 
sat and watched them some time, when I asked Dingee if he 
thought they would get up. He said they might il we would 
but give them time. I proposed that we shut off the water and 
help them up, but he said he thought we had better not as it 
might detain us — beyond supper time. 

Night was drawing near and we thought to return, but discov- 
ered that scaling the precipice was another thing to going down 
it. We descended with the utmost difficulty, although it could 
have been more easily accomplished by falling, if not as satisfac- 
tory. But although we understand how the vigilanters used to 
instruct persons in falling up, we were loth to assist each other 
in that way. 

We turn down the canyon to a point about three hundred 
yards below where we come to the little creek that we crossed' 
just before going into camp. Here, after an immense amount of 
climbing and clinging, scratching and swearing, we succeed in 
reaching the creek whence we ascended to the brink of the can- 
yon. We returned to the Lower Falls and concluded to descend into 
the canyon from the height above. It was with no little difficulty 
thafl we accomplished the feat, and we were well repaid for the 
trouble. Never did mortal eye behold a sight of more sublime 
magnificence than is afforded us as we cautiously peer into the 



48 



abyss from the very brink of this majestic cliff. On the verge of 
the precipice vs^e found a small pine tree growing, and notwith- 
standing the Superintendent's notice, we could not refrain from 
leaving our names upon it. One of the party posted a notice 
upon the tree which we have no doubt will be conformed to, not 
only moie strictly, but more agreeably. It read thus: 

Notice: Tourists are requested not to Jzimp over these falls^ as 
it spoils the Jishing below. By order of the Superintendent. 

We scale the mountain, return to camp, repicket our horses, 
build the camp fires for the night, and are soon recupeiating 
from the fatigues of the day in sound sleep. 

August 23. — We j^ass an uncomfortable night, owing to the 
cold, and daylight reveals the fact of it being an exceedingly 
restless one, too, as we find that by our efforts to keep warm we 
have tumbled and rolled about fifteen feet from where we laid 
down. We collect wood for the camp fire, and, having thawed 
out, prepare our frugal repast, which consists, principally, of salt 
bread. We are soon en route for the Lower Geyser Basin and 
home.. The air is very pure and invigorating, and as we strike 
a mile or so of good trail, we give our horses the rein, and, with 
a war whoop, strike out at a spanking rate. 

After riding four or five miles we come back again towards 
Alum Creek. When within abbut a mile of the creek, we find 
another trail leading off to the west or southwest, and, as this is 
the trail that Houston told us to take on our back route, we fol- 
low it for about two miles and come out on the creek near the 
side of a mountain with scrubby pines on the side and summit. 
This, in view of subsec|uent events, is an important landmark. 

VVe follow the south fork of this stream some ten miles and 
come to Alum Spring. Its clear cold water is very inviting to 
the tliirsty, but as Houston, had told us of its peculiaiities, we 
were not thirsty enough to drink. 

As Houston was coming to the geyser, he tokl the boy, Hen- 
derson, that this spring was the last cool water he would find for 
some time, whereuijon the boy dismounted and took a huge 



49 



mouthful and — spit it out without being told to do so. By the 
time he could get the pucker out of his mouth, and find words to 
express the pent up anguish of his soul, his wrath had fled and 
Houston thus escaj^ed the most complete errudiate and accomp- 
lished cussing of his life'. A little water with something m it, 
be it heat or mineral, contains a great deal of latent eloquence. 

We ascend the mountain separating Geyser Land from the Yel- 
lowstone, and find we are on a different trail fromi that which we 
passed over on Monda}-. This one leads down the mountain b}- 
way of Mary's Lake. As we proceed we come to more sulphur 
springs, where we gather more specimens of cr3'stalized sulphur 
for Chief Joseph's cabinet. A mile or so beyond we come out 
on Mary's Lake wdiich we find, is a beautiful sheet of water a 
half mile long, by one fourth of a mile in width, situated upon 
the summit of the divide. We water our horses, gather some 
specimens of the rock formation, pass along the western shore 
and soon begin the descent of the mountain, to the Lower Gey- 
ser Basin. The trail now runs almost perpendicularly up and 
down the mountains, and it is next to impossible to sit on our 
horses. I do not meet with such difficulty as the others, inas- 
much as the long ears of my charger prevent my slipping over 
his head. Eight miles of this route brings us to the foot of the 
mountain where we again meet Texas Jack and party going back 
toward Yellowstone Falls. We chat for a time and he informs 
us that we will meet Riche's party coming up. 

On the marsh, at the base of the mountain the trail is very in- 
distinct and it is with difficulty that we find it. By keeping to 
the left, however, we find it and come out upon our trail of Mon- 
day at the place where we met the old man Shrively. We had 
not met Riche's party and conclude that they have taken the 
other trail to the falls. The marsh which we had just left was 
covered with hot springs, mud, w^illows and tall grass and to this 
fact may be attributed my ability to write this book. Had it not 
been for the willows and high grass it might have been other- 
wise, upon the principle that "dead men tell no tales." 
This will become manifest as the reader progresses. A mile 



60 





farther down wc come to Texas 
Jack's dinner camp, and it being now 
two p. M,, we conclude to camp 
here. We picket horses, buikl camp 
fire and are about to dine oil tlie 
scant}- provisions we have left, when 
Din^ee announces with a cry of s^lad- 
ncss that he h:!s found the hiiid 
Cjuartcrs of an eagle that Texas Jack 
or sonie of his party had killed a few^ 
hours before. Dingce seems to thnik 
that it is quite an acquisition to our 
depleted larder, and immediately set'^ 
about preparing it for dinner. He 
fiie^. the legs, and the usual sum- 
m(^ns to " grul) " is given with an 
amendment, " and eagle bird by 
chance." Perhaps the old pioneers 
of Virginia, M T.,will appreciate the 
amendment, when they 
remember Sax}^ of Vir- 
"^ ghiia, in the gem where 

he kept his roulette table, 
in '6:^. As he gave the 
wheel a turn, with the 
exclamation ! " houchy, 
conchy, conchy, couchy; 
" ^ ninety-nine in the red, or 

'^'■S^PBIJtpl c^-gle bird by chance !" 
/' 1 remember it distinctly, 
as having invested live 



dollars in the ,^X'>nie 



'}' 



,^^^^A-i^— -^^^^-d.*^*'^^^^^ father forcibly impressed 
^.v^-^i:-': =>^,. -^5^ : -.^<^-^ — ; it ypou my mind, and 

GIANl GEYSKK, 200 FEET HIGH.- , , • , i • i 

p ^- elsewhere with a shmgle. 



51 



As we sit down, we again hear the " eagle bird by chance,'' 
as Dingee hiys hold ot a leg with his teeth^ but fails to fetch any 
meat. I pass my share out to the dog, Dido. It may be noted 
that our dinner of the next day was taken, at the same place as 
was this, but with a largely increased number, and iiiuch less hi- 
laiity. We, also, had " l)ird by chance," 'but it was White Bird. 
Dinner over, we, in a spnit of fun that will, at times, move the 
most sedate, decorate ourselves and horses with the eagle feathers 
ni true Indian style, and, remounting our horses, give the Indian 
war whoop and strike out on a gallop for the home camp ni the 
basm. For three miles down the east fork of the Fire Hole 
River, our trail is good, but on crossing we find the trail is 
through fallen timber, which necessitates slower traveling. In 
passing through the timber three miles, we cross tlie east fork 
three times, but we finally come out on the east side of the 
stream. Off to the right we hear a gun fired, and presently see 
a man running towards us. He comes to the opposite bank of 
the stream, when we see that it is old man vShrively. He says 
he has lost his horses; had traced them this far, and inquires if 
we have seen ihem. Being answered in tlie negative, he asks if 
we will carry his " traps " to the settlement, in case he does not 
find his horses, and we consent. Subsequent events show that 
this arrangement was unnecessary as Chief Joseph kindly re- 
lieved us of the necessity of looking after them. In that way his 
magnanimity is overpowering. 

We ask the old man to come to our camp and btay (jver nii^ht, 
and push onward leaving him to continue his search. 

An hour's ride brings us near camp, when putting the spurs to 
our horses we give the war whoop and rush headlong into camj^. 
We are greeted by .all the party with a cordial "How, how," 
and in me, Oldham recognizes a long lost chief, Red Eagle, but 
Dingee dispels the illusion by asserting that " we are the lost 
babes of whoop-up-or-any-otherman." 

As we dismount, Dingee imploringly asks for cold victuals and 
unsaltcd bread. Mrs. Cowan, assisted by the others, soon pre- 
pares an cxecllent repast and Dingee proceeds to make amends 



52 



for the tlays of fasting, while I reh^te our adventures. The ac- 
count of our adventures were not without tints, and it is a small 
estimate to say that the amount of provisions consumed by Din- 
gee was fully in proportion to the amount of coloring used by 
me. 

We find the party in excellent spirits and Myers, although 
yet a cripple, hobbles around with good grace. 

There is another party in camp by the name of Harmon, a 
prospector from Colorado, whom we had met in Riche's party, 
and we were told that old man Shrively had taken breakfast with 
them in the morning- and had lost his horses while eathig break- 
fast in their camp. 








CASTLE GEYSER- 



It is now seven o'clock, and we build an enormous camp five 
and call a council to decide our future wanderings. The result 
of the conference is, that, having seen the sights, we will start for 
home in the morning. 

This being our last night. in the Basin we institute a grand jol- 
)iricati(jn. The guitar and violin are produced and music, singing, 
;iii(l dancing follows. Mann makes a sketch of the camp, with 
Oldiiam conspicuous in his Indian co.stuinc, in which we have 
dressed him lor tlic occasion* Wc finish the evening's entertain- 



53 



ment with a "pigeon wing" from Diiigee, a "double shuffle'' 
from Arnold, and a song in full chorus, entitled "Flitting Away." 
The events that follow have vividly impressed upon the minds 
of all, the closing lines of the song: 

"Flitting, flitting away, 
All that we cherish most dear." 
We bid each other good night and turn in for tht last night, 
as we supposed, in Geyser Land. 



HOT SPUING CONE, IN YELLOWSTONE LAKE. 

I had noticed that during the evening Mrs. Cowan was uneasy, 
and u^DOn being asked what was wrong, replied "nothing.'' Yet 
I was not satisfied, and as I lay there, I could see her occacion- 
ally come to the door of the tent and look out into the woods. I 
lay awake for a time, but about twelve o'clock d]-opped asleep. 

We were beneath the trees, Arnold and Myers being together 
beneath one tree about eighteen feet from the camp fire, Mann 
and Dingee about eight feet nearer Ihe fire rolled in their blankets, 
and Oldham and myself next to them. Cowan, Mrs. Cowan 
and Ida were in the tent, fifteen or tv/enty feet to the right, near- 
er die woods. How well I remember every incident of that 
evening- Little did we think that, as we slept, three red devils 
were within fifty feet of us, and had been watching our antics 
from the shadows of the trees. 



54 



DEPARTURE OF THE PARTY. 

At ckiylight Dingee and Arnold are up and build camp fire 
preparatory to getting breakfast. As it grows lighter, Dingee 
takes the coffee pot and pail to bring water from a little stream 
in the edge of the timber, near Thud Geyser. He has not gone 
but a few yards when, looking towards the southwest, he saw 
within iifty yards of him, three Indians sitting upon then- horses 
quite still. Seenig that they were discovered, they moved towards 
camp, each saying "How, how '^" Dingee answers "How?" 

They come into camp and- Arnold came and woke Oldham 
and myself, saying: 

"Frank, get up c<[uick, there are Indians in camp I" 

I jump to my feet and ask: 

"How many?" 

"Three," he replies. 

"What are they?" 
• "I don't know, but think they are Nez Perces." 

"Wake the balance of the camp, except Emma and Ida," I 
said, but the precaution is not needed, as I can sec Mrs. Cowan 
looking through the folds of the tent at the Indians. 

As I am dressing I hear Dingee ask the Inchans: 

"What are you?" 

"Snake Injun," one replied. 

"No vSnake Indian," says Dingee, to which lliey made no 

reply- 

The cam]) is nearly all u]) and I g(» towards the Indians and 
say "How? ' They each resp(jnd "How?" 

I addiess the one nearest me and ask: 

"What triDe?" 

"Me Nez Perce," he replies. 

"Whatband?"! again ask. 

"Looking (jlass' liand," he answers. 

Leaving the ])arty to (|uestion ihern I g(; to the tent and fmd 
Mrs. Cowan crying quietly. 



55 



"Is there any clanger, Frank?" she asks. 

"I do not know, but hope not. Is George awake?" 

"No." 

I tell her to awake him and open the tent. Cowan i'^ now 
awake and I tell him we are going to have some trouble. Ida 
IS aroused by our conversation, and cautioning both her and Em- 
ma not to show themselves, I go back to where the bo3's are in- 
terrogating the Indians. Arnold tells me that the Indians want 
flour, bacon, sugar, etc., and I sit down to talk with them. Ad- 
dressing one ol them, I ask: 

"What is your name?' 

"Me Charley," he replies, 

"Where is the balance of the Indians?" 

"Down there not far," (pointing southwest towards the east 
fork of the Fire Hole,) "camped on river down there.'" 

"How many?" 

"Three, four hundred." 

"Who chief>^" 

"Looking Glass, Joseph, White Bird, chiefs. Joseph, he 
towards Lake, three da3^s," meaning that Joseph was towards 
Henry's^ Lake about three days march. 

"Will tliey fight party?" meaning ourselves. 

'■'Don't know, ma^be Iniun^ come steal horses, maybe kill. 
Don't know." 

"Will chief kill citizens?" 

"No, chief no kill you. No kill you, friends." 

Cowan now comes up and says "How?" and asks them some 
questions about who thev are, etc. The}' keep their eves on the 
tent while talking, and leaving the boys to keep them engaged, 
I motion to Cowan, and we walk to one side to decide what 
course to pursue. We are convinced from what has been said, 
that they mean us harm, and we conclude to keep Emma and 
Ida concealed, and send the Indians off as soon as possible. Covv^- 
an goes into the tent and I return to camp, when Charle}' says: 

"Injuns no kill, no fight, chiefs no kill you; no kill you, 
friends.'' 



56 



"We stay here?" I ask. 

'■'Don't know, maybe some Joseph's Injuns come up here, kill 
you, maybe want horses. HeajD mad, Joseph's Injuns." 

"How many bad Indians?" 

He replied by liolding up both hands three times, meaning 
thirty, ten each time. He says: 

"Joseph's Injuns heap bad." 

Arnold and Dingee have gone on the hill back of camp to see 
if they can get a sight of the other Indians that Charley says are 
encamped near us. The Indians again make a demand for cof- 
fee, bacon, etc., but Cowan does not propose to give it to them. 
Upon this, one of the other Indians gets up and moves back a 
little ways and places his hands- to his mouth and tries to whistle 
through his thumbs. Cowan grabs his needle gun and says: 

"Here, none of that. Keep 3^our hands down!" at the same 
time motioning him to keep his hands by his side. Charlc}'^ turns 
around and speaks to the Indian m their native ^ongue, and he 
comes back and; sits down, • 

I ask Charley if they saw an old man down the creek. He 
rejjlied : 

"Yes. Injuns got him prisoner now. Catch him last night." 

"How did you know our party was here?" I asked him. 
Pointing to the other Indians and himself he answers: 

"We go out watch. See big fire, come up. Sec you all time. 
Watcli you all night in vv^oods. Injuns watch 'em heap all night. 
Von heap big time," pointing to our part}^ and referring to our 
jollification of the night before. 

Arnold and Dingcc now return and rej^jort Indians in every di- 
rection below us, looking at the geysers. We all hold a consul- 
t;jtion and decide that we had better not move. Some think we 
h;id hotter stand them off, but all agree to getting the horses, 
and thieve or four go out for tliat purpose while the remainder 
vvalcli llie Indians. 

I proposed to Cownn t/iat he and 1 rick" down to see the chiefs 
and ask that we 1)e allowed to return home without molestation. 
Cowan docs not approve of the plan, but ujDon my representing » 



61 



that had they intended to kill us, they could have easily done so 
during the night without fear of retaliation, he admits that it may 
be advisable to go, and finally gives his consent. I ask Charley 
what he thinks of my going to see the chiefs, and if he thinks 
we will be allowed to return. He answers: 

" Don't know. Maybe so. Maybe Injun kill. Don't know." 
There is evidently no satisfaction to be had from this fellow, 
and we make ready our horses to go down and determine the 
question by experience. 

As we are about to set out, Mrs. Cowan comes to us and begs 
us not to go, and says that if we go, all should go together. The 
Indians have arisen and are talking together, and pointing to the 
ladies. There is deviltry in tneir eyes, and as Cowan looks to- 
ward them he picks up his needle gun. I tell him not to shoot 
yet, to wait awhile. The boys are all in with the horses now, 
and the Indians keep asking for flour, bacon, etc. Two of them 
have stepped over to Harmon's camp to beg, Dingee and Arnold 
have gone up on the hill, and Mann coolly gets the coffee pot 
and proceeds to get breakfast. I remark that I doubt if there is 
a healthy appetite in the party, that of the Indians excepted, and 
Mrs. Cowan remonstrates with him for cooking at such a time as 
this. Mann replies that it is getting late, and we might just as 
well eat as not, but adds, " if you don't want any breakfast let us 
pack up and move out of here." That's my sentiments exactly, 
and Mann and Myers give the Indians some bacon and flour to 
keep them quiet. Oldham and myself proceed to harness the 
horses, and we conclude that we will pull out down through the 
main encampment and take our chances. We all assist in getting 
ready to mc»ve, and as Dingee and Arnold are still out, I halloo 
for them to come in. They do so, and report Indians all around 
us, but think that they have not discovered us as yet. Arnold is 
opposed to our going, but as we are all ready, he reluctantly 
consents and gets into the buggy wnth Mrs. Cowan and Ida. 
Mann and Myers take the wagon; Oldham, Dingee, Cowan, 
Harmon and myself mount our horses, and, taking the three In- 
ians with us, we break camp, and file out about nine o'clock. 

7 



58 



Dingee's prophecy is about to be fulfilled; he is already visibly 
affected with emaciation. 

The three Indians are marched ahead, with Oldham on one 
side, Dingee on the other, and Cowan immediately behind them. 
The carriage follows next, with Harmon and myself following 
it, and the wagon brings up the rear. We, you may be sure, 
each grasped our guns. I have a good needle gun with eight 
rounds of ammunition, Harmon has a Henry rifle with two hun- 
dred cartridges, Cowan has a good needle gun with thirty rounds 
of ammunition, Myers has my shot gun, Mann has a Ballard rifle 
and a revolver, Dmgee has a good revolver, and Oldham has a 
Ballard rifle, but with only three rounds of ammunition, and a 
small revolver. These, with our hunting knives, which all carry, 
constitutes the sum total of our weapons of defence. 

The Indians have one needle gun, two Henry rifles, and are 
well supplied with ammunition and knives. 

As we leave the grove of pines, where we were encamped, we 
have, for a mile and a half, a piece of swampy marsh land, in 
front, to the left, and off to the right, extending in all two and 
one- half or three miles from north to south. We had not left 
the timber more than two hundred yards when we ascended a 
little rise in the marsh, from which we see the Indians on the 
move up the east fork. As far as we could see, up and down the 
river, they were moving abreast in an unbroken line ten or fifteen 
feet deep, driving j^onies and constantly riding out and in the 
line. We could see about three miles of Indians, with one 
thousand or fifteen hundred ponies, and looking off to the left 
we could sec more Indians looking at the geyers in Fire Hole 
Basin. 

As vvc came out into full view upon, the rise, there was a com- 
motion along the line, and w(? could see the warriors drop out 
and gather into groups of, perhaps, thirty or forty each, and 
stood looking towards us. We contined our course south-west, in 
almost an opposite direction from that of the Indians, which was 
north-east. They watch us lor a tinie, when of a sudden, with 
one impulse seemingly, they come jDcU-mell, whooping and yell- 



5d 



ing like a band of fiends. Emma and Ida beg of us to shoot 
them rather than let them fall into the hands of such demons. 
Cowan rides up to Charley and tells him to stop the Indians 
from coming closer. Charley acts upon the hmt and rides out 
and warns them back, and we stop our wagons. As our little band 
gather together in the face of such overwhelming numbers, there 
is a strange glitter in their eyes, and it is evident that they will 
not go down without sending several yelling red devils to the 
" happy hunting grounds " as a partial recompense. 

The Indians check up, and finally halt about one-fourth of a 
mile from us. They number about seventy-five or eighty war- 
riors. I propose that we keep on our w^ay, and we again start. 
We encounter Indians coming and going in every direction, and 
as fast as we come up to them they follow along with us, and 
before we know it they have us completely surrounded. We 
have now reached the east fork, and on crossing it we have but 
a mile to go before we strike the timber land on our route home. 
The Indians cross with us, and allow us to proceed about a half- 
mile further, when they order us to stop. We dismount, and 
ask them what they want. But they make no reply, and keep 
riding around us, varying the proceeding occasionally by gallop- 
ing to and fro in front of us. As our party glance frequently at 
Mrs. Cowan and Ida, who are crying quietly, I can see their 
eyes snap and their hands play nervously with their guns. The 
Indians watch us constantly like cats, and keep their guns cocked 
and lying across their horses in front of them. 

I turned to Charley, w^ho has done all the talking so far, (the 
red devil keeps his eyes on Mrs. Cowan all the time) and ask 
him why we were stopped, and why they keep us w^aiting there. 
He says that Looking Glass is coming pretty soon. 

We w^ait here probably five minutes, when an old Indian 
comes up who tells us, through Charley, that Looking Glass 
wants us to come back to him, and that Chief Joseph is coming 
wit)i his Indians but a little ways off, 

Charley tells our party to turn back, and that Looking Glass 
and White Bird will save us from Joseph's " bad I/ijuns." At 



60 



this about thirty or forty of the Indians near us break off towards 
the timber in front of us, yelling and shouting as they go, and 
soon disappear in the timber. 

Charley tells us to turn back quick, as the Indians have gone 
to tell Joseph's band to hurry up. We remount our horses, but 
I can see that our party don't care particularly to return, but we 
start back, inasmuch as we can't help ourselves. I thought that 
we would be safe could we but reach the chiefs, and hastened to 
turn the buggy and wagon, and retrace our course. We had got 
fairly started back, when we hear a noise in the rear, and directly 
here comes the Indians who had gone after Joseph, with their in- 
fernal " yip, yij^, yipping." 

They ride up behind us and urge us forv^^ard by saying, "Qiiick, 
fast. Heap fast," and as they ride around us on all sides they 
throw the ends of their lariat at the horses in the wagon and 
buggy and we start on the run with the Indians all around us, 
laughing and shouting, and telling us that Joseph is coming. 
We go in this way for a time then turn off to the left and follow 
the main trad upon which we saw the Indians moving vy^hen 
we first left camp. The devils keep "whooping us up, plenty," 
having lots of fun among themselves, seemingly at our expense. 
We strike the east fork now and are on a full run again. Mrs. 
Cowan and Ida are considerably frightened and Dingee is evi- 
dently losing his apjDctite. 

We continue in this manner for three or four miles, when we 
come to fallen timber lying across the trail and we see that 
we are compelled to abandon our wagons, as we cannot travel 
farther with them. The party halts and we proceed to unhitch 
the horses and saddle them for Mrs. Cowan and Ida to ride. 
The Indians arc all around us watching every movement and 
constantly telling us to hurry. 

While the boys are busy saddling up, I propose that I ride 
ahead and sec if I cannot sec Looking Glass and, White Bird, 
and get the party out of this scrape. Oldham wishes to go with 
me, but I tell him 1 will go alone, -and recpicst hmi to stay with 
the party. I turned to an Indian near me, who had a large red 



61 



bandana handkerchief tied about his forehead with the knot in 
the rear, and ask: 

**Will you take me to Looking Ghiss?" 

"Yes, yes," he rephes, "you give me cartridge." 

"All right," I answer. 

"How many you give?" ' 

"How many do you want?" 

"Five or six." 

"All right," I reply, and bidding our party good bye, and tell- 
nig them to hurry up to the chiefs as soon as possible, we start 
ahead. 

We have overtaken the main body of Indians and we travel 
as fast as the trail and Indians will permit. We cross the river 
and try to get by the Indians but without making much head- 
way. We travel in this way for a mile or so when my guide 
proposes that we cross the river and take a cut-oif saying that 
he guesses that Looking Glass has gone up to the head of the 
column. He turns his horse across the river and I follow. The 
mare I am riding is uneasy and it is with difficulty that I urge 
her into the stream. We cross and take to the timber, and are 
now about a half mile from the other Indians wdio are on the 
opposite side of the river. 

As we are riding along, my guide tells me that he is a brother 
of Looking Glass, as Looking Glass married his sister. He says 
that the citizens killed his squaw and papoose at the Big Hole 
fight, and concludes a history of his troubles by saying he is 
"heap mad." 

I tell him that when he catches the fellows that killed his squaw- 
to "whoop 'em up plenty," but that my friends and I were not 
to blame. 

"Me heap mad. Me no like white man," he replied, and can- 
dor compels me to admit that there was no loss of love between 
us. 

Directly he stopf)ed short, and said his horse could go no far- 
ther, and said : 



62 



"You give me cartridge, and go on. You find Looking Glass 
up there little way." 

"All right, but you must show me Looking Glass." 

"No," he said, "my horse tired. Me no go." 

We argued the matter for a time, and finally compromised by 
my agreeing to go ahead, and then his horse would follow. 

He turned out of the path to let me go by, and I started to pass 
him and take the lead, thinking of no danger from him, at least. 
Just as I was about to pass him I saw him drop his hand on his 
revolver, I took the hint, stopped my horse, and as I was yet in 
the rear I quickly brought my needle gun into good position for 
that red bandana and said: 

"Look here, my friend, you go now. You take me to Look- 
ing Glass and hurry up, too!" 

He looked around, but seeing that 

I HAD "THE DROP" ON HIM, 

hurriedly said : 

"Me go, me go!" . , 

"You go fast, too. No stop. You stop me catch you, you 
bet!-' 

"No stop, you bet," and we "lit out" on a lope, his horse show- 
ing no disposition to tire. He did'nt stop again. As we rode 
along I thought I had never, with all my weakness, made such a 
fool of myself as I did this time. I was mad. To let that blood 
thirsty devil coax me out there alone for a target. His scheme 
was well planned, and it was only by the merest chance that he 
was foiled in his designs. It gave me a lesson in one phase of 
the Indian character,, and I learned it quickly and well. It is 
this: Never trust a red skin. 

We proceeded now at a canter until we came to where Ar- 
nold, Dingcc and myself had encamped for dinner the day before. 
Here is an opening where the Indians are going into camp for 
dinner. Looking Glass was not here yet, but we dismounted to 
wait for him. My guide grew very anxious about his cartridges, 
but I thought it would be a good idea to keep them from him 



until I saw Looking Glass. So I told him he could have them 
when he showed me the chief, but not before,. The Indians be- 
gan to gather around us now and as they were getting too fa- 
miliar to be entertaining, I backed out ot the crowd and stood 
upon the outside of the ring. 

As I was standing near watching the maneuvers of the crowd, 
I was approached by an Indian whom my guide introduced 
as Looking Glass. I offered my hand and said " How ? " He 
accepted it and returned the salutation " How, how? " 

LOOKING GLASS 
is a man of medium height, and is apparently forty-five years of 
age, his hair being streaked with grey. He has a wide, flat face, 
almost square, with a small mouth running from ear to ear. His 
ears were decorated with rings of purest brass, and down the side 
of his face hung a braid of hair, adorned at the end with brass 
wire wound around it. The ornament worn by him, that was 
most conspicuous, was a tin looking-glass, which he wore about 
his neck and suspended in front. From this he gets his high 
sounding and reflective title. He wore nothing on his head and 
had two or three feathers plaited in his back hair. This was his 
appearance to me, although my inventory of his stock of attrac- 
tions was a hasty one. I asked : 

" You friend ? " 

"Yes, citizens friend." 

He then asked me who I was, and as I was about to explain 
to him why our party were in the basin, and the object of our 
coming, I was interrupted by the appearance of a half-breed and 
old man Shrively. Shrively Introduced the half-breed as 

WHITE BIRD, 
and asked me questions concerning the party. 

White Bird, (or more properly Joe Hale, as that is his name 
among the whites, and the name by which I shall hereafter call 
him) now told me to come w^ith him, and as Looking Glass had 
moved off, I started to follow, but was interrupted by my guid^ 
who again demanded his cartridges^ I gave him six and he 



64 



wanted more, but as I had but eight, I refused to give him more. 
Joe, seeing me give him cartridges asked me what I was doing, 
and I told him. He said: 

" No give Injun cartridge, no give."" 

" Shall I take cartridges back? " I ask. 

He smiled significantly as he said: 

" My friend, you no take ''ein back^"* and told me to come to his 
lodge. Shrively and I started to follow and as we walked after 
him Shrively gave me the particulars of his capture the night be- 
fore, and how he had purchased his life by consenting to act as 
guide for them. I asked him what he thought of our situation, 
and he said he believed in fatality, and that if our tmie had come 
we would die. I did not jump for joy at this announcement, as 
I thought our time had certainly come, judging from what I had 
seen durmg the morning, and that we would most assuredly go 
hence soon. 

Arriving at 

JOE'S CAMP 

I was told to unsaddle the mare, and having done so, Joe came 
up and relieved me from further duty in that line. I was told to 
sit down, and having nothing better to do, did so. Shnvoly hav- 
ing taken care of his horse, came and sat down by me on some 
robes and blankets. As Joe was off attending to some camp af- 
fairs, we had a conversation about our situation, and we agreed 
in thinking that matters were anything but promising. He asked 
after my sisters, and gave me all the encouragement he could as 
regards them, as he saw that their welfiire was uppermost in my 
thoughts. 

The Indians kept coming into camp, all driving their hoises. 
As they came into camp the warriors would lounge around in the 
grass while the squaws would do the unpacking and unsaddling 
and make the preparations for dinner. 

Presently Joe came back and said : 

" Give me gun." 

I handed it to him. 



65 



" What you do up here?" 

I made him understand, by imitathig the steam coming from 
the ground, that we had been visiting the geysers, I said: 

" Can party go home? " 

'^ Don^t know," he rephed, " me see Looking Glass and Joseph 
l^retty soon. They see." 

" Is Joseph here?" 

"Yes; Joseph's Injuns, bad Injuns. They kill all time. Bad 
Injuns Maybe trade horses. Take'm you horses. You horses 
tat; my horses poor. Me swap. Give'm you good horses; 
my horses poor, but take'm you home." 

I asked him if we should give up our horses would they let us 

00 home. 

"Maylfe, my friend. We want you guns, you revolvers, all 
cartridges. . Injuns mayl^e w^ant blankets, saddles. Don't know. 
See bye'm-bye.'' 

He asked me how long before our party would come up, and 

1 told him they w^ould he along "bye'm-bye. Indians got them 
way back. Be along bye'm-bye." 

He told me to bring them into his camp when they came. He 
sat there looking at me for some tune, and finally observing a 
ring on my finger said : 

" Let me see'm you ring?" 

I held out my hand to let him examine it. He said: 

" No. Get'm ofiF. Me want'm ring." 

" No get'm off," I said. 

"My friend, me see'm ring. Get'm off." 

I told him I couldn't get it off; it fit too tightly; and I made 
an ineffectual attempt to remove it from my finger. He says: 

" My friend, me get'm off," and he smiled seductively and 
convincingly as he took out his sheath knife and drew it across 
his finger. 

I was not slow to take the hint, nor in benefitting by it. I put 
the ring in my mouth, and was astonished with the rajmiity 
with which it came off, although it did take a part of the finger 
with it. I took it from my mouth, and politely handed it to him. 



66 



As the thieving devil sHpped it on his finger, he incidentally re- 
marked, " Heap good." 

I, wishing to convince him of my magnanimity, said : 

"Joe, I give you that ring. I present it to you as a slight to- 
ken of my esteem. Please accept it." 

He looked up and smiled complacently, but I could not tell 
from his manner w^hether he fully appreciated my generosity, 
but infer, from the significant w^ink of his left eye, that he did. 

We had now been in camp a half hour, when I saw our party 
coming, surrounded by the Indians, I told Joe my friends were 
coming, and he said for me to bring them to his camp. I mo- 
tioned for Cowan to come to us, and as they rode up I formally 
presented them to White Bird, who directed them to dismount 
and remove the saddles. They complied, and Joe and his In- 
dians took the horses to the trees near by and tied them* While 
Joe was kindly taking charge of the horses, I conversed with the 
party, and they all thought, as I did, that our |chances were du- 
bious. Joe having returned, I told the party, in his presence and 
that of Shrively, whom all had greeted cordially, that Joe 
thought we could go if we would give up our guns, ammunition, 
etc. I turned to Joe and asked him if that was right, and he 
says: * 

" Yes, my friends. You all stay here. Me go see Joseph and 
Looking Glass," and he started around the encampment, which 
was in the form of a circle, and numbered four or five hundred 
Indians in all. He was riding Cowan's horse, and as he made 
the circuit of the camp he kept haranguing the warriors. I after- 
wards learned that he was hallooing, " watch out, look out," 
which was a caution to them not to let the soldiers surprise them. 
Having made the round he rode to the other side of the en- 
cam])mcnt from us, where I presume Looking Glass and Joseph 
were encamped, as I saw a great many warriors ride up to where 
Joe entered the woods. 

In about fifteen minutes Joe returned and told us that he would 
give us horses to go home with, but wanted us to "swap." He 
also said he wanted our guns, ammunition, etc., and as he ofTered 



67 



nothing in exchange for these, we supposed he accepted them as 
" boot." 

A HORSE TRADE EXTRAORDINARY. 

Our party consulted upon the proposition made us, and as we 
couldn't do anything else, consented to take the crow with no 
requests for turkey. 

The Indians, headed by Joe, now began the " swapping," and 
as it seemed to be altogether a one-side trade, it was soon finished. 
Their method was to take a horse, without even sa}'ing "swap" 
or no " swap," lead it away, and bring us back whatever they 
pleased. To Oldham, from whom they had taken two good 
horses, they brought a horse, very poor, and a little old mule, 
that had been shot through the shoulders. Oldham took the lar- 
iat of his mule, and, giving it a jerk, turned it around, and finally 
succeeded in getting it near Mrs. Cowan, to whom he remarked, 
" that this was the easiest crowd to trade with he ever saw." He 
stood and critically examined that mule from " stem to stern," as 
Skipper Dingee would put it, then, as a wave of unfathomable 
disgust swept over his features, he spoke through his foot in a 
way that was at once expressive and moving; at least it moved 
the mule about a rod. He stood looking at the mule's ears al- 
ternately flopping as it hobbled away, seemingly lost in deep 
reverie. Dingee aroused him by asking "Al, what do you think 
vour little " Bunch of Roses" would say could she see you now ?" 
It was too much, (mule,) and he walked away. 

Cowan with Mrs. Cowan, Ida, and Shrively, were sitting by 
themselves during the "trading." Cowan sits smoking, never 
saying a word, except it be to encourage Mrs. Cowan, but watch- 
ing carefully every motion of the Indians. Shrively is doing all 
he can to cheer Ida, and the rest of the party are walking back 
and forth impatiently waiting for the Indians to finish dividing 
the spoils. 

Joe finally came to us and informed us that they had finished, 
and pointed out the horses we were to take. He told us to put 
our saddles on them, which surprised^ us, as we never expected 
such a courtesy. We hastily complied and were soon ready for 



the road, Emma retaining her side saddle and Ida riding in a 
man's saddle. 

As we were about to depart I went to Joe and asked him for 
some bread for the white girls, and he stepped back to where his 
squaw was and obtained some for them. I gave it to the girls, 
but Mrs. Cowan did not eat. 

They now robbed us of our guns except the Ballard rifle of 
Oldham's which he refused to give them. Charley, our inter- 
preter of the morning, .taking Dingee's six shooter, a splendid 
weapon, (and one that subsequently played a prominent part in 
the shooting,) which he appropriated to his own needs with con- 
siderable relish. Another Indian came to Dingee and asked him 
to swap blankets, holding up his dirty, greasy, single blanket, 
that he proposed exchanging for Dingee's extra double one. Din- 
gee, with an eye to business says : 

" No swap." 

" Better swap. Take'm blanket any way," says the Indian, and 
Dingee with another eye to discretion, says: 

" All right. Me swap." 

Nobody has ever asked Dingee what induced him to make 
that trade, but he must certainly have had good reasons for mak- 
ing it. Dingee is shrewed. He may lose his appetite, but never 
his wits. 

The Indians had finished their dinner and been on the move 
some time since, and the warriors now gathered round us and 
took our knives. They were moving over the mountains sejDarat- 
ing the Basin from the Yellowstone, by the same trail we had 
followed from the foils. Joe came to us and said : 

" Get'm horses quick. Injuns come now. Bad Injuns come 
They getting mad now. You go quick, my friends. You go ' 
out in tim1:)er. Keep in timber, my friends. No go out of 
woods." 

" Will we get away, Joe?" I asked. 

" Yes, my friend. Me hope you get away, but Injuns heap 
mad." • • " 

I proposed that our party stay with him. He said: 



69 



" No, you go home now," and he came and shook us b}^ the 
hand, saying: 

" Good b3^e. Go quick." 

As he passed Arnold and Dingec he tokl them to get away the 
best they coukl as " Injuns heap mad. They kill maybe." 

He came to Mrs. Cowan and Ida, and shaking their hands 
said : 

" Good bye, my friends, good bye, my sisters." 

He mounted his horse, (the one I had ridden, belonging to Mrs. 
Cowan,) and leaning over whispered to me : 

" My friend, go quick. Me tell you now go quick ; bad Injuns 
over there," pointing to the flats out beyond his camp. As he 
said go quick, he gave his horse a dig in the side, and away he 
went towards the head of the column on the trail going over the 
mountain, taking Shrively with him. 

DANGER THICKENS. 

Our party now started for the timber and when we had gone 
about thirty or forty yards, we looked back and saw the Indians 
following us in two's and three's coming out on each side of us 
with their guns cocked ready for use. One glance was suflicient 
to show our party that we were in for a muss, but as I glanced 
at the party I could see no evidence of fear, only anxiety for Em- 
ma and Ida. I sincerely believe that throughout all our trials, 
this was the one thought uppermost in the minds of all. 

Charley, with several other Indians, now came pretty close 
and told us to come out of the timber, and go home by the trail. 
It was swampy and mirey, with many warm springs and much 
fallen timber there. Our horses kept falling and stumbling, and 
I said to the party : 

" Let us get out of this. If we have to be shot, let us get out 
where they can have a fair show to get us." 

The bo3^s were tired of this, and we turned and left the timber 
and struck the flat. As we came out we saw forty or fifty Indians 
above us two or three hundred yards, and as they saw us coming 
out of the timber they made a break for us and soon had us sur- 
rounded. 



70 



Charley spoke aii^sald: 

" Where balance ^Iparty?" 

" All here," I replied. 

" No, two gone." 

I looked around and found that Arnold and Dingee were gone. 
I sincerely thanked God that they were away. I knew then that 
our friends would know how we had died. 

Charley then spoke to the Indians, and some of them started 
off into the woods. Turning to us he said: 

" Two men get away. Injuns catch 'em now, kill 'ern sure. 
No get away." 

I think that there was a silent prayer from the hearts of every 
one, for their safety. 

The Indians had now surrounded us and were jabbering away 
among themselves when I turned round and asked Charley what 
they proposed doing with us. 

" You £ro home pretty soon ^'' he ansvs^ered. Saying something 
to the Indians they separated for us to go through down the trail 
towards the wagons. 

THE FIRST SHOT. 

We started down the trail, the Indians meanwhile sitting on 
their ponies watching us, and we had got but a few rods, when 
\\ c heard shots in the woods near wdiere we supposed Arnold 
and Dingee were. 

" There go Dingee and Arnold, poor fellows," we exclaimed. 

The compressed lip and flashing eye said plainer than words 
could express it, " Oh if we only had guns now! " It is fortunate 
that we did not have them or there would have been none left to 
tell this tale. 

Hearing the guns, the Indians, with a yell, started for us again, 
and we stopped and waited for them to come up. Emma and 
Ida were crying quietly, but not a sound escaped their lips to tell 
of their terror. It was pitiful to look in their eyes and see the 
anguish of mind reflected in their depths. My heart bled for 
my poor helpless sisters. 



11 



The Indians rode to us and began jostling, laughing, shouting, 
and running against us. Soon another squad of the cowardly- 
devils came up and joined in the hellish fun, and kept pointing 
their cocked guns at us. 

Finally Charley said that Joseph wanted us to come hack, and 
I proposed to the party that we go back to the chief, and we 
again turned and started back, the Indians following us laughing 
and jostling us as we went. 

We had gone about two hundred yards w^hen they again 
stopped and demanded our saddles and blankets, which we gave 
them, and one Indian dismounted and pulled a revolver out of 
Mann's boot. Mann, with more indignation than it is possible to 
express in words, shouted, " You take it. Take evervthing, you 
a dhog!" 

They then told us to get on our horses again and come along. 
As we did so a number of the Indians broke off and entered the 
timber, but there was still forty or fifty surrounding us. As we 
reached the edge of the timber we were told to get together in a 
group. A little chief, who wore a drummer's jacket and was 
riding a large black horse, now took command, and I noticed 
that the other Indians obeyed him implicitly. They kept riding 
around and around us telling us to get close together, and thev 
would significantly feel each other's pulse and laughingly point 
at us. We understood them. 

We did not obey them in getting together, knowing well what 
it meant. The little chief coming near me I begged him to let 
the party go, as we had nothing to fight with, I said : 

" No fight, no fight. Nothing to fight with." 

He looked at me a moment and said : 

" Get 'em together," pointing to the party. 

I looked around and saw that the party w^ere all mixed in 
among the Indians. I to spoke them, saying : 

"BOYS, DON'T GET TOGETHER." 

I particularly noted the appearance of Cowan, who w^as quiet- 
ly sitting upon his horse, but with an expression of deadly hate 
in his eye that I never can forget. 



n 



The hooting and yelling painted devils surrounding us, toy- 
ing with us, ere they took the life-blood for which they thirsted. 
At such a time one is almost forced to believe that there is no jus- 
tice in heaven. 

We waited here some ten minutes for the killing to com- 
mence, knowing, by the expression of their faces, that it was in- 
evitable. I finally turned to the party and said: *' Let us try to 
get to Joe." We started, but the Indians shouted, '" No go," and 
the little chief rode in front of me. I shouted again, " Yes, we 
go. You kill, kill now. No care," and I did not care, as I 
thought that killing was then* game, and the sooner it was done 
the better. 

We began to move, and as the chief had ridden in front of me 
I turned my horse to the left and rode up beside him, he having 
in the meantime turned his towards mine. We rode side by side 
some distance when he stopped both our horses and let our party 
pass. We fell in behind them, and had advanced but a few rods 
when we heard \.\no shots about thirty or forty yards ahead of us, 
and I heard Mrs. Cowan scream: 

" O, George ! O, George ! " 

The little chief then made a break to the left upon the side of 
the mountain above the trail, taking my horse with him. He 
dismounted, tied his horse to a sapling, took his gun from his belt, 
and started on a run down to the i^lace of shooting 
leaving me there. \n about five minuter after, I heard shots 
in different directions, and saw Indians plenty as the trees, and 
running in every direction. I could see Mrs. Cowan a few feet 
in front of me kneeling by Cowan and crying, " O, George, O, 
George." Qiiite a crowd of Indians had collected about them, 
and jircscntly I saw Ida running and screaming with the Indians 
after her. She kept screaming, and made a dash through the 
Indians and got to where Cowan and Mrs. Cowman were. I 
could liear Mrs. Cowan pleading for them "to kill her (Mrs. C.) 
too, to kill her first!" 

Meanwliile tlie Indians kept running backwards and forwards, 
shouting all the time, and yelling as 'they thought they had shot 



n 



one of our party. At the first fire, it seems that the party broke, 
every one doing for himself. No one of us could fight but Old- 
ham, and he had been shot through the face at the first fire and 
was disabled. Cowan had been shot from the front, the ball pass- 
ins^ throuorh the thio-h. The Indian that shot him had aimed at 
his body. , Cowan, when shot, jumped from his horse and started 
for a ravine below the trail, but his limb being partially paralyzed, 
he fell over a fallen tree in his path, where Mrs. Cowan found 
him, she having jumped from her horse and broke through the 
crowd of Indians. The rest of the party had run towards the 
marsh, which, as before stated, was covered with willows and 
high grass. The Indians following and shooting at them. 

In looking down towards where Cowan was, I saw a group 
of Indians in great commotion. Supposing that Cowan and all 
were killed I looked around to see some chance for escape. I 
found I was entirely surrounded by Indians who were watching 
me with guns in their hands, waiting for me to make a break 
when they would have shot me as I ran. I stooped down on the 
neck of my horse intending to leap to the ground when I saw 
guns raised all about me to shoot. I thought my time had come 
and straightened up on my horse expecting to feel a bullet 
crashing through me instantly. I really felt anxious for it to 
come, and relieve my suspense. All this occurred in less time than 
it takes to write it yet it seemed ages to me at the time. 

As I raised up I happened to glance oflf to the left where I saw 
the young chief who had left his horse beside me, standing in a 
little thicket close at hand. He was in a stooping posture with 
his gun raised to his face about to fire. If there is a period in a 
man's life when he thinks rapidly, I believe it is at such a time. 
I thought that man}* of these Indians were Catholics and it sudden- 
ly occurred to me to make the sign of the cross. What impelled 
me to do so I know not. It was a sudden imjDulse that prompted 
me and it was as suddenly put into execution. 

Instantly his gun was lowered and running to his horse he un- 
tied it, sprang upon it, and casting a hasty glance about us at the 
Indians, said to me. 
8 



"li 



" Come quick. Me no kill you." * 

I followed him and found that our course led past the crowd 
collected about Cowan. As we were about to pass I saw Mrs. 
Cowman wringing her hands and could hear her cry : .^ 

" O, my God! George, O, George!" 

I could hear Ida cr^-ing " George, George, Emma, Emma!" 
I jumped from my horse and broke through the crowd of In- 
dians to where Mrs. Cowan and Ida were kneeling beside Cow- 
an. I saw Cowan reclining ujDon his left elbow and he seemed 
to recognize me about the same time that I saw him. I was then 
probably about four feet from him and as I approached he said : 
" Frank, for God's sake get me some water!" 
I glanced around and sav\^ that we were entirely hemmed in by 
Indians, and I said : 

" George, I can't. We are all gone, there is no show for any 
of us." 

He raised himself upon his hand and said : 
" O, God, won't some one get me some water?" 
Mrs. Cowan made a move as if to get up when I felt a touch 
upon my shoulder, turned and found it was the young chief who 
was standing close at my side. He spoke to me in a low tone, 
saying : 

*•' Come quick, Injun kill now. Come quick." 
I followed him and joassed through the crowd of Indians who 
were still running around here and there like a swarm of bees. 
He led the way back to our horses which were standing as we 
left them, and mounting., motioned me to get on my horse, say- 
ing: 

" Come (juick. Bad Injuns kill now. Come quick." 
He took the lead and I followed up the trail. We had gone 
perhaps fifty yards when he turned suddenly into the ravine or 
marshy place and beckoned me to follow. I ran my horse into 
the thicket after him, rode up beside him and began to tell him 
^^not to kill white girls," when he held up his hand and motioned 
me to keep quiet. The Indians were still shooting all around us 
it seemed, and they would give a yell occasionally when they had 
hit one of our party, as I supposed. 



^5 



We had been in the thicket probably three or four minutes, 
Avhen, on looking through the bushes, I saw the Indians in a 
great commotion again surrounding Cowan and the girls. As I 
looked I heard another shot and a scream from Emma and Ida. 
I turned to my chief and begged him not to kill white girls, and 
crossed myself as I said it. He replied : 

" No kill, no kill. Injun take'm white girls prisoner. No kill 
white girls. Take'm white girls, make'm squaw. No kill." 

" Wdl Indian kill me?" I asked. 

" Don't kno\^', maybe. You no go, you stay me. You m\ 
prisoner. Me no kill you. Me no like white man. Kill'm nn 
friends. Kill'm my squaw, my papoose, my friends in Big Hole 
light. Me no like you." 

Looking at me a moment he crossed himself and said : 

" Me catlic, 3^ou catlic." 

The reader may be assured that I did not fail to keep tliat im- 
pressed upon his mind thenceforth. 

I heard no more from Mrs. Cowan or Ida, and I could see that 
the Indians were dispersing. V/e remained where we were for 
about ten minutes or until matters had quieted down. We could 
hear an occasional shot in the distance, but there seemed to be no 
Indians in our immediate vicinity. 

The chief, after a time turned to me and said : 

" Come, you drive'm horses. Mj' horses." 

All right," I said, and he having pointed out the horses I was 
to drive, I immediately adapted myself to my 

NEW VOCATION 

and made myself generally useful, rest assured. 

The Indians now began to come back, the squaws drivino- the 
ponies first this way then that. They seemed to be wandering 
aimlessly ^ about, when the chief turning around, asked me if I 
knew the trail, pointing towards the mountains, I replied yes^ 
when he said: 

"Injun lost. Don't know'm trail. You know'm trail?" 



16 



" Show'm trail." 

I motioned for him to come with me, and we crossed the ravine 
and a Httle creek that comes down from Mary's Lake. Here 
the two trails come near together. 1 told him that both trails 
went over the mountain to the Yellowstone, and showed him by 
pointing, that the one leading north went by Mary's Lake but 
the one to the north-east did not. These trails run nearly par- 
allel, at no place being over four miles apart. He asked: 

" Which way Injuns go?" 

" Go either wa}^ Some go one way, some go other way," 
and explained that the trails met on the other side of the mountain 
about twelve or fifteen miles. 

He looked steadil}^ at me for a moment then said : 

" Show'm trail," motioning for me to take the right hand 
road. 

There were quite a number of Indians gathered about us by 
this time, waiting to be shown the trail, and I took the lead and 
soon had them all following on the trail to the north-east. The 
chief then stopped me and said : 

" Wait, you drive'm horses." 

" All right," I said, and we stopped by the side of the trail 
waiting for some of the squaws to bring up the horses. Every 
now and then as the squaws, with the ponies and young Indians, 
were passing us, a little devil, fifteen or sixteen years old, would 
stop opposite us, raise his gun, cock it, and, pointing it towards 
me, would say : 

" G— d d — m; G— d d — m ! No good. White man no good;" 
then they would look at each other and laugh uproarously. I 
will admit that I couldn't see where the laugh came in. It made 
me nervous. So nervous, in fact, that I resolved, then and there, 
if I ever got put of this scrape and should catch one of those 
imps, I would sit down on him, dig out his ears with a knife, and 
pour in the Lord's Prayer. Even after passing me, they would 
come back, where I was busily driving horses, and go through 
the same antics. I tell you those devilish little Indians made me 
more nervous than I ever was before or have been since. I could 



11 



not see that future generations were to be benefitted or civiliza- 
tion, in any degree, advanced by such practices, hence prefer, 
that in having such fun, they select another subject in the future. 

The horses having come up the chief told me to help him 
drive them and not to " go way. Injuns kill. Stay me." I'ell- 
ing him, " No go. Mo stay, you hct^'' we starteci up the 
mountain. 

About a mile from where the shooting had taken place, I 
looked back and saw a white woman riding on a horse behind a 
big Indian. I did not recognize her, and supposed it was another 
captive they had made before capturing us. I kept on driving 
the horses, backwards and forwards across the trail, vet kept my 
eyes on the woman coming behmd us. I did not thiiik it was 
Mrs. Cowan, as when I last saw her she wore a blue water- 
proof cloak, while this woman was dressed in light colored cloth- 
ing. A turn in the trail, however, brought us closer together, 
when I saw that it was Emma. I said: 

" Emma ! " 

She looked up and cried: 

" Oh, Frank ! thank God you are alive." 

She looked at me with such a look of horror depicted in her 
sunken eyes, as I hope I may never see upon the face of any hu- 
man again. 

" Where is Ida? " I asked. 

" I saw her taken off by the Indians, and think she is with them 
somewhere." 

"Are any of our party alive?" 

" No; they are all killed. None got away I think. Oh, it is 
horrible. They killed George. They shot him through the 
head, and I had my arms around his neck. Frank, it is killing 
me. I can't stand this much longer." 

« Did you see Al.?" (Mr. Oldham.) 

I saw him shot and fall off his horse. He jumped, threw up 
his hands and fell. The Indians followed him down into the ra- 
vine, and I heard them shoot once more. Oh, Frank, it was hor- 
rible, horrible. I wish I were dead," 



" Emmaj was there no show for any of the party getting away 
clown there ? " 

" No,*" she said, " they were all killed." Pausing a moment, 
she continued: 

" As this Indian lifted me on to the horse, I saw an Indian 
standing over George with a big rock in his hands. I saw George 
raise his hand to his head and the Indian then threw the 
stone on him, striking him on the head and crushing the skull 
all in. Oh, Frank, it was horrible. I have begged the Indians 
to kill me but they won't do it. What shall I do? I don't rec- 
ollect anything more after the Indian threw the stone, until you 
spoke." 

I kept telling her to keejD. up. We w^ouid get together 
again. 

''What are they going to do w^ith us, Frank?''. she asked. 
" I don't know. Since we have lived this long, I have hopes 
that we may. get out all right," I replied. She continued, say- 
ing: "Frank, if they kill you, what shall I do? What shall I 
do?" 

We had been riding about fifteen or twenty feet apart, and 
our conversation was carried on as I rode in and out among the 
horses which I was busily driving. 

CHARLEY'S WORK. 

Emma was riding behind Charley, the Indian who had come 
into camp in the morning, and was his prisoner. I saw then, 
what I before suspected, that he was the author of all the mis- 
chief During all our trials of the day J had noticed that he kept 
his eyes on Emma, and now, m the culmination of our misery, I 
could see the realization of his hopes. Did you ever thirst for 
the warm heart's blood of a human? If not you can not imagine 
how intensely I hated that devil then. How I longed for my 
gun, and with what supreme satisfaction I could have scattered 
liis brains to the winds. I thought that I saw a beloved sister 
subjected to a fate a thousand times worse than death. I doubt if 
God himself, the embodiment of love, would chastise me for har- 
boring such thoughts as I did then. 



79 



Charley now stopped his horse and we were separated and I 
could not see her any where. We had by this lime gone some 
two or three miles up the mountain when the chief motioned me 
to drive the horses out into an opening. I did so and he began 
counting them. Suddenly, he broke away on a run through the 
woods, without so much as saying "good bye," or with your per- 
mission." I was displeased with his uncivility, and (with a vivid 
recollection of those little red devils who kept pointing their guns 
at me) I struck out full tilt after him. Away we went, pell mell, 
through the thickets, brush and boughs, scratching my face, tear- 
ing my clothes, and knocking me around generally. I kept close 
to him, and just as I began to doubt his sanity, and to wonder 
"what in the thunder is up, and where is he going to?" we 
rode out into an opening where there were a number of loose 
horses, and he stopped. He had not heard me following him, 
and happening to look around and see me, he laid his head back 
on his shoulders and gave one of the most self-gratifying laughs 
I ever heard. It was a little louder and longer than the solem- 
nity of the occasion required I thought, and I began to think that 
we had struck the jolliest band that ever cut a throat. He ceased 
laughing after a time, and looking at me with one of his most 
significant winks that blended coquetishly wnth the archness of 
his smile said : 

" You heap stay, heap stay!" 

"Yes heap stay; heap stay me. You bet ; plenty T'' 

"All right. Drive'm horses. My horses!" pointing to the 
horses in front of us. 

Again I fell to work, making myself more than useful. We 
were still among the Indians and it seemed to me that the whole 
countrywas alive with them and ponies. I drove some ponies 
up the trail a little ways and then came back to the horses which 
he had counted by this time. 

We had gone some distance when a large Indian rode up be-, 
hind us, whom I guessed was another chief, and to whom my 
"boss" began to laughingly relate the particulars of our trip 
hroughthe woods, concluding with the remark, "him heap 



80 



stay." The large chief kept his eyes on me, and during the 
time I think I never threw my whole soul into a work more com- 
pletely, than I did this . I know I was much busier than any 
body else. They must have thought I liked it. 

I could see the two talking together as they rode side by side 
and saw my " boss" make the sign of the cross and point towards 
me. This apparently satisfied the big chief, as he rode up to me 
and said: 

" How ?" 

"How?" I replied. 

" How far Yellowstone''" he asked: 

" Fifteen miles; maybe more. F'ifteen or sixteen miles.'' 

" You take pack horse. Lead'm." 

AN INTRODUCTION. 

Pointing towards a squaw who was leading both a pack mule 
and a horse, he continued: 

" My squaw. You lead'm pack ^mule." Saying "all right," 
I rode up to the squaw and she handed me the mule's rope. I 
started ahead but the mule seemed to think I did not travel fast 
enough, and made a break to get by me but I crowded him oft' 
the trail. Again he started to pass me and made a dash between 
two trees and stuck fast. He struggled and twisted but could get 
neither backwards nor forwards, the pack holding him tight. 
This produced a good deal of merriment among the squaws, 
and pointing at me, they kept saying, "Heap squaw, heap scpiavv. 
No good." 

This riled me, and getting off" my horse, I brought that mule 
such a welt across the nose with the end of the rope that he sat 
right down backwards and turned clear over, leaving the packs 
between the trees. ^ 

The two chiefs rode up and with the help of the squaw placed 
the pack upon the mule again. They insinuated . that I had not 
better try that again, gave me the halter and we started ahead. 

A mile farther brought us to the top of the divide, where Sa- 
tan was burning brimstone and pumping steam with such infer- 



nal jngenuity. One of the chiefs rode back to where I was and 
pointing to a small fissure in the ground beneath our horses from 
which the steam was escaping, asked: 
" What jnake'm steam?" 

" Heap fire down under the ground," 1 repHed, and motioned 
for him to pick up a piece of the hot suhphur lying loose about 
the fissure. He sprang from his horse and picked up a piece 
and began a critical examination of it. I told him to smell it. 
He p'aced it to his nostrils, gave a good snuft' and dropped it with 
a look of disgust, (it was the first time 1 ever knew an Indian to 
be disgusted with a smell.) 

"Ugh!" he said "No good, no good. What make^ii?" 
" Fire down below," I answered. 

'• Down there?" he asked, stamping the giound which gave 
forth a hollow sound. 

'"• Heap fire down there," 1 said. 

He jumped for his horse and with "No good, mc go," struck 
out as hard as he could go; It was not merely a spirit of mis- 
chief that would have prompted me to have freely given five 
years of my life to have seen him drop through for a fczc min- 
utes. 

iVs we began the descent of the mountains the trail was much 
better and we moved ahead at a more rapid gait. It soon began 
to grow dark, and soon afterwards the sky became overcast with 
heavy clouds and it grew quite dark. The Indians kept asking 
how tar it was to the Yellowstone, although we had yet some 
nine or ten miles to go. They seemingly had no idea of distance. 
We passed the place where we had camped on Mondav and 
about two miles beyond and came to the creek where Arnold 
caught the liltle trout. Every thing that we had seen on our wav 
to the Falls I noted now^ as we passed, and each incident, how- 
ever small, was again recalled 

Crossing this creek we soon came to another small creek where 
I asked the chief if I could get some water. He told me to get 
oflf and drink. I alighted and lay down to drink, still holding 
th§ halters of mv horse and mule. The chief rgde on and left m^i 



82 



Here was my chance to escape. By crawling a few feet I could 
have lain down in the creek beneath the bank and waited for the 
Indians to have passed. There was no probability of their seeing 
me, as it was .quite dark. All this passed through my mind while 
drinking, but as I thought oi Emma and Ida, and the anguish 
tliey would suffer if I left them without their knowing what had 
become of me, I determined to remain. Rising, I mounted my 
liorse and again started after my chief whom I soon overtook. 
i\s I rode up, he turned and said: 

•'Hello! no go much further." 

He was evidently surprised to see me, and I concluded that he 
had purposely given me the chance to escape as he had done in 
the woods. 

Ascending a little hill in the trail we could see ahead of us, 
what would have been, under any other circumstances, a beauti- 
ful scene. The Indians had encamped on the outer edge of a 
circular basin about three-fourths of a mile in circumference, and 
were building their camp fires about every twenty or thirty feet 
apart. The ponies, a thousand or more, were in the basin encir- 
cled b}^ the fires. Others were constantly coming and we could 
hear their "yip, yip," as they drove the ponies in for unpacking. 
At any other time it would have certainly been picturesque. 

I had lost sight of the chief who had saved my life and had 
been traveling Vv'ith the other chief and his squaw until we came 
to the camp. As we entered I saw a group of squaws and In- 
dians near us towards whom we rode and stopped. The chief 
said something to them and motioned me to dismount and un- 
pack the mule, which I did immediately with the best of grace. 
Having removed the pack, the Indian took the horse and mule,, 
and motioned me to sit down on the j^ack. As yet I had seen 
nothing of the girls coming into camp, although I kept watching 
the surrounding camp fires constantly, in hopes they would pavSS 
before them rmd thus reveal their whereabouts. Poor Ida! I 
had not seen her during the day, and I knew she must be sufler-. 
ing intensely, among the Indians somewhere near us. 



88 



INDIAN CAMP LIFE. 

My chief now came back and touching me on the shoulder, 
said: 

" Come, get'm wood." 

I arose and followed him to the timber and began gathering 
sticks, etc., and having secured an armful, returned to camp. A 
squaw standing by, said to me: 
" Mak'm fire." 

She handed me a match and I soon had a good fire burning. 
The chief now told me to get some water, and as I did not know 
which way to go, he pointed across the encampment. I said 
"all right," and he gave me a coffee pot and a brass kettle in wdiich 
to carry it. I started, but he shouted: 
" Here, where you go?" 
" Get water," I replied. 

"You no go that way. Injuns kill," and he pointed to the 
Indians passing back and forth in the camp. Turning to another 
Indian lying near on the ground, he said something in the moth- 
er tongue. The Indian addressed, got up and came to us, when 
I saw that it was the chief that had saved my life. He came to 
me and partially removing his blanket, he placed the loose 
end around me, intending to go with me thus, after the manner 
of school girls. He held the blanket in this position with his left 
arm about my neck, but as I was opposed to such flimiliarity on 
so slight an acquaintance, I undid his affectionate clasp and got 
outside of the blanket. He said : 

" No go that way, Injun kill sure," and removing the blanket 
from himself said : 

" Here, you play Injun. Injun see'm you white man, kill you 
sure," and he wrapped the blanket around me. 

"You Injun now," he said, "no kill now. Me go too," and 
taking the brass kettle from me, we started. He told me to keep 
the blanket over my head "like Injun," and we traveled ahead 
much after the manner of the illustrious ex-president of the ex- 
confederacy when he didn't escape. Notwithstanding the fact 



84 



of my keeping the blanket closely pulled about my face, I never- 
theless kept a sharp lookout for my sisters. As we were dipping 
up the water I asked the chief where the white girls were, and 
he said: 

" Little white girl, she over there some where with Injun. 
Big white girl, she no come. Me no see'm. She come maybe, 
bye'm-bye." 

We started for camp now, and as I could not get the Indian 
style of walking, the Indians that we passed looked at me pretty 
closely. My chief, though, kept his eyes open for mischief. We 
got back safe, and having deposited the water by the camp fire, 
I gave the blanket a toss on the ground. The odor was any thing 
but pleasant. The young chief seeuig the action came and picked 
the blanket up, and handing it to ine again, said: 

" Put'm on blanket. Injun come pretty soon. Maybe kill 
you. Put'm on blanket and sit down there," pointing for me to 
be seated some distance from the fire, in order that the bright 
light might not reveal my presence. 

Seeing Indians coming across the encampment, I followed his 
advice rather lively. From my position I had full view of the 
whole camp, and could see the squaws busily engaged in getting 
supper, while the noble red man lounged upon the grass. This 
kmd of camp life was new to me, and had it not been for my 
anxiety for my sisters, I could have enjoyed it. To an observer 
under other circumstances, it would have been interesting, as it 
was, I took but little notice of what transpired around, being con- 
stantly on the alert to catch a glimpse of the girls. 

As I sat there thinking of the events of the day, of the death 
of the boys whom I knew so well and regarded so highly, 
of the terrible fate of my sisters, and the inevitable death, 
as I supposed, in store for me, it all seemed more like a horrible 
dream than a reality. If there was any moment during all our 
trials that I gave way to human weakness, it was when I thought 
of our happiness of the night before when we were all together, 
full of bright anticipations of a pleasant journey home, and com- 
pared it with our present position. Then so full of life,,now,> 



85 



six of the boys lying, mangled in the woods, cold in death. I 
thought, too, of the pleasant home circle. They, having heard 
of the Indian war, would certainl}' be solicitous as to our welfare. 
They would hear of our tragic fate, but what a horrible revela- 
tion would our bleaching bones make. 

As I sat brooding over our fate, I heard the tread of an ap- 
proaching pony, and on looking up I saw Emma being helped 
from its back. I sprang to my feet and as she came towards the 
fire I advanced to meet her. I extended my hand but she stepped 
back quickly. Throwing the blanket aside I said: 

'*EMMA, DON'T YOU KNOW ME?" 

" O, God, Frank, is that you ?" 

I will not record the events of the next half hour. I only 
pray, reader, that you may ever be spared my experience during 
that time. 

The Indians having supper now ready, one ot them approacli- 
ed us and said : 

" Supper, come." 

Emma declined to go, and I motioned the Indian that we want- 
ed nothing; he then told us to come near the camp fire and sit 
down there. We did so, and in talking of the events of the day, 
Emma asked if it was not possible to get Ida over where we 
were. I told her I did not think we could, but turning to one 
of the Indians near us I asked if "little white girl come over 
here?" 

He said : 

"No. Other Injuns goi'm little white girl. Looking Glass 
Injun got'm." 

" Whose prisoners are we?" 

"Joseph's Injuns got'm you. White Bird's Injuns got'm 
her," pointing to Emma. 

The Indians had now finished their supper and were squatting 
around the camp fire talking. One of the squaws again came up 
to Emma and asked her to eat. 

Emma told her she wished nothing only some water. The 



squaw brought it. Emma drank some of it, and bathed her face 
and hands in the rest, after which she felt better. 

My chief came to me and pointing to an Indian sitting close by 
me, said : 

" Him Joseph." 

Joseph hearing him, turned partly around towards me. I 
said : 

"Joseph!" and extended my hand. 
I He grasped it and gave it a shake. I asked: 

"Friend?" 

" Citizens friend," he replied. 

I turned towards Emma, and said; 

" My sister." 

He extended his hand to Emma and said: 

" You sister?" 

" My sister stay with me?" I asked. 

" Yes, you sister?" 

" Yes." 

" Yes, you sister. She stay here. You stay here. Stay in m}^ 
lodge. Joseph's lodge. My house; Joseph's house. You sister, 
3'ou, stay here all night." 

As we were talking I noted carefully ever}^ feature of 
CHIEF JOSEPH, 
and suppose that he is a man about iorty or forty-five years 
of age. He is about six feet high, broad shoulders, and of pow- 
erful fhysique. He is, also, intellectually well developed. Ha 
has a high forehead, a straight prominent nose, high cheek bones, 
and when he speaks he sets his lips together w^ith a firmness that 
showed he meant what he said. He talked but little, but I noticed 
that when he spoke to an Indian, there was no hesitancy about 
obeying him. His son was pointed out to me, but I could see no 
traces of his father's qualities there. He was a careless, reckless, 
sort of a fellow, laughing and jabbering away with some of the 
young squaws. His father spoke to him once, when he arose 
quickly, without a word, jumped upon his horse, and was away 
in the darkness in a moment. 



87 

Shortly after my conversation with Joseph, one of the Indians 
came over to him and began talking-. I could see by the gestures, 
of which their language is principally composed, that he was tell- 
ing him of the troubles of the day. Joseph listened for a moment, 
then with a motion of disgust got up and went over where his 
squaw and grown up daughter .were. He was evidently dis- 
pleased with the actions of the Indians, in the shooting of our 
party. 

The Indians now had nearly all arrived in camp, and.we soon 
heard White Bird, or Joe, going his rounds again, and harangu- 
ing the Indians as he went, as at noon. He came near us, hut 
not to the camp. He, it seemed, looked out for the camp regu- 
lations, such as appointing j^ickets, taking charge of prisoners, etc. 
I afterwards learned that Joseph and his band, and Looking 
Glass with his band, did the princij^al fighting. 

Emma had now stopped crying, and we all sat around the fire. 
1 could see the squaws frequently looking at Emma and pointmg 
to her as they talked. A papoose was lying on a blanket near 
the fire, kicking away, in happy ignorance of what a mean little 
devil it was bound to make. I told Emma to take it up. Look- 
ing at me for a moment, she says : 

" Me take that thing? I won't do it! I'd sooner die than take 
the nasty thing up!" 

"That's all right on principle, Emmaybutyou take that papoose 
up. We are playing for our lives now." 

Emma then motioned for a squaw to hand her the jiapoose, 
which she good-naturedly did, smiling and laughing as she 
placed it upon her lap. Emma immediately proceeded to wipe 
its nose, a no little job, rest assured. I saw this took with the 
squaws, and it certainly made an impresson upon them, so it did 
upon Emma, but with rather an opposite effect. As for myself, 
I know I could have sat down on that young one and smothered 
it, with^a good deal of relish. Keeping the child but a few mo- 
ments, Emma passed it back to one of the squaws, who again 
placed it on the blanket. 

It was now getting late, and the Indians began to make down 



88 



their beds for the night. My chief and squaw made a nice bed 
for Emma and myself, of buffalo robes and furs, over which they 
spread a nice deer skin. They then motioned for us to come 
and lie down. 

Telling Emma to cross herself, and how it had saved my life, 
we knelt together, and I know we both prayed fervently, if it 
was silently. The Indians were closely watching us the mean- 
while. Having finished our prayers, we agani crossed ourselves 
and lay. dow^n, and the Indians covered us with blankets and 
robes. They then made their beds around us m the form of a 
semicircle. 

We covered our heads, and Emma again began crying and re- 
lating the particulars of the day's horrors. 

She again gave me the particulars of the killing of her husband, 
and as she spoke of the Indian throwing the rock upon Cowan's 
head, it was all I could do to hold her. The shock had well-nigh 
crazed her. I did all I could to recall her mind from contemplat- 
ing the horrors of the scene, but with no avail. She kept saying: 
" O, Frank, if they had not crushed his head with the stone. The 
blood spattered all around. O, Frank, it was horrible," and agam 
she woukl spring up. I kept my arms clasped tightly about her, 
and it was a continual struggle with her all night long. The 
scene of the killing of Cowan was constantly before her, and as 
she thought of how he had died, begging for water, she would 
almost go into convulsions. I think no person could suffer more 
than she did then. My God! what a horrible night it was to me, 
too. Mow I longed for the welcome light of day. 

Once during the night she became quiet for a time, and my 
chief, supposing we were asleep, came over to our bed, and kneel- 
ing down, slipped his hand beneath the robes and placed it upon 
my face. I grasped his hand, threw the cover from my face and 
asked him what he wanted.. 

" You sleep?" 

" No sleep," I answered. 

" You sister sleep?" 

" No sleep," I said again. 



89 

Me save you, you sister. Me send sister down river to- 
rrow." 

Emma and myself had risen to a sitting posture when he had 
first spoken, and thanking him, and again crossing ourselves, we 
lay down. 

Shortly it began to sprinkle when the chief and his squaw got 
up and getting a large wagon cover, spread it over us and tucked 
it in around us. 

In about an hour after this, we heard one of the most mournful 
sounds that I ever heard. Emma started up and said: 

" What is that?'' 

I listened for a moment, and told her: 

" It is one of the Indians chanting for their dead." 

We listened for a time, when it ceased. Those who have heard 
the death chant, know how mournful and weird it is, even un- 
der ordinary circumstances. But coming to us then it was inex- 
pressibly doleful. It chdled to the marrow. 

DAYLIGHT CAME AT LAST, 

and at the first movement among the Indians we sat up. The 
Indians were soon astir, building camp fires and getting breakfast. 
As the day grows brighter we can see the Indians who were on 
picket coming in, and others going out to take their places. On 
looking to the south-east part of the camp we can see W hite 
Bird's camp, but can see nothing of Ida. 

As w^e were looking in that direction, we saw an Indian ride 
suddenly out of the timber back of Joe's camp and come charg- 
ing down through camp on a full run. He urges his horse to the 
utmost speed and passes us like a shot. As he passes, Emma ex- 
claims: 

"Look, Frank, he is riding Al.'s horse!" 

She was right. It was Oldham's roan horse. Old Ranger, as 
Al. used to call him. The horse was a very fleet one, and I re- 
marked to Emma if we only had two such horses as Old Rang- 
er, we could leave our present company w^ith little trouble. 
The sight of the horse again started Emma to crying. 
. 9 



90 



The Indians came to us and wanted us to eat breakfast. Em- 
ma would eat nothing, but I nnally prevailed .upon her to take a 
little coffee. I sat down with them, and they gave me a spoon 
with a motion that told me to help myself. The meal consisted of 
nothing but a large dish pan full of cam mas root cooked up like 
hominy, around which all gathered. It may be surmised that I 
hadn't a very hearty appetite, yet I concluded to make myself 
agreeable at any cost. 1 tasted thecammas root and think that it 
could be made palatable if properly cooked, but, as much as I 
dislike to comment upon the fire of my hostess, a love of truth 
compels me to admit that I have partaken of other meals with a 
greater relish. It looked like hominy, but the dirtiest hominy I 
ever saw, was clean compared with this. Grease, sticks, gravel 
stones, in short, dirt of all kinds almost, was here " lumped." I 
have heard oi -A sandy desert; here I ate a sandy dessert. It was 
food fit for an ostrich. Even Din gee could not have stom- 
ached it. I would commend it as a diet for Gen. Howard; he 
would then have more "sand in his gizzard." Not being hungry 
I took but a taste. The Indians then gave me a small piece of 
bread which I ate, and they then gave me some willow-bark tea 
in a tin cup, which I drank. The tea tasted well, but was rather 
sickening. I noticed they sweetened the water before adding the 
bark. The repast being finished, I crossed myself and rejoined 
Emma. 

The sun was now up and as it threw its rays upon the tops of 
the surrounding mountains that were bright with the tinted leaves 
of early autumn, the scene w^as worthy an artist's brush. Every- 
thing seemed so calm and peaceful, I could scarcely realize the 
situation in which we were placed, Emma had changed so in 
appearance that one could not have recognized her as the cheer- 
ful, happy girl of twenty-four hours before. This was her first 
great sorrow, and it had made sad havoc of her youthful looks. 
The death of Cowan, under ordinary circumstances, would have 
crushed her, but to be a witness to his horrible fate was killing 
her. The day, too, the twenty -fourth of August, -ivas the second 
anniversary of her wedding day ! 



91 



Again Joe made the rounds of the camp, cautioning the Indians 
to be on their guard. As he came near our camp and ?;a^^' Em- 
ma and myself, he rode up to us and said : 

"Hello!" 

" Hello, Joe." 

He looked at us for a moment, then motioned for me to come 
to him. I did so when he asked: 

" You prisoner?" 

" Yes," I answered. 

" You sister prisoner too?" 

" Yes," I replied. 

" How many you party gone?" he asked. 

" Seven," I said. 

" No, SIX," said he. " How many in party?" 

" Ten." 

" Nme in you party, six gone." 

I explained that Harmon was not of our party but had joinod 
us in the basin. He then asked me about the sliootmg of Cowan 
and Arnold. I told him all I knew, when he said: 

" Too bad. Me tell Injun to let you party go home. G — d 

d n Nez Perce. No good. They go back kill'm you frien<l. 

Me telPm no kill. G — d d n Nez Perce. No good!" 

I then asked him about the little white girl. He said : 

'' Me no see'm her. She down there somewhere," pointing 
across the encampment. I asked if I could see her. 

" Don't know," he said, " me see." 

He then called Mrs. Cowan up, to whom he said "good morn- 
ing." Mrs. Cowan returned the salutation, and he said something 
about the shooting of Cowan. He motioned us to go back, say- 
ing that he w^ould come again " bye'm-bye." He conversed with 
the Indians a ^vhile, then started on his round again, haranguing 
them as before. 

The Indians were now getting up their horses preparatorv to 
moving on, and while thus engaged, Joe came back. Riding up 
to my chief he leaned over towards him and began talking in an 



92 



undertone. As he talked I saw him point to me and I understood 
him to say : 

KILL'M HIM TO-DAY. NO WANT'M HIM. 

I sprang to my feet and went to wiiere they were talking. I 
crossed myself and asked : 

"Joe, you kilPm me?" 

He said nothing, but looked at me with inhuman deviltry pict- 
ured in every lineament of his face. 

I continued : 

"Joe, you kill me to-da}^; me no care. But, Joe, let me tell 
you, no kill white girls. Me tell you, now, no kill! Got'm 
heap friends; heap friends. Live twelve years in Montana. 
Everybody know'm white girls. Joe, promise me you no kilPm 
white girls. Me tell you, now, no kilVm.. Citizens come. Got'm 
heap friends, w^hite girls." 

For a half hour I begged and prayed for the life of my sisters. 
How earnestly I can not tell. You, kind reader, can only im- 
agine. 

During the time I could see nothing but stolid indifference, in 
hio face. Not a look of sympathy, nothing but innate develish- 
ness could I see there. He finally turned to me and said: 

" Me send you sisters home down Yellowstone river. Me 
give'm two white girls one pack horse, send'm down river, Yel- 
lowstone river." 

"Alone?"! asked. 

" Yes," he answers, '■Hhcy go alone P"* 

" Jf)c, no send'm white girls alone. No find'm trail down riv- 
er. White girls get lost. No go that way." 

He then said he would " send Injun with them," which would 
have been a thousand times worse than alone. 

" No, no! No send Injun," I said. 

" Well, me sec, me sec," he replied. 

I told hnn as regards myself, I did not care. He could do as 
he pleased. He said: 

" Well, my friend, me see." 



93 



He now turned to go away, but I stopped him and again asked 
him what he was going to do with the girls. 

He rephed: 

'' Me don't know." 

I then told him to take the girls to his camp and keep them 
there until they came to a white settlement or wliite persons, 
and to keep them with him always^ and not let the other Indians 
get them. He promised to do so. * 

I said: 

"Joe, you promise me?" 

" Yes, my friend. You sister, my sister now. Me no kill'm 
you sister. Me take'm my camp, me keep'm. Bye'm-bye me 
give'm white friends. INIe take'm my lodge. You sister, my 
sister." 

Crossing myself, I told Joe to do the same, and said: 

'•Joe, you promise me," and crossed myself. 

" Yes, me promise," and he crossed himself. 

He told me to tell Emma to get up and come to him. She 
did so and he told her she was to come with him. Emma turned 
to me and asked me what they were going to do with us. I told 
her as briefly as I could the conversation we had had, and told 
her to stay In Joe's camp until liberated; never, under any circum- 
stances whatever, to leave it, until she could do so w^itli safety. 
I told her, also, if she and Ida undertook to escape and got away, 
to follow the trail down the Yellowstone, and they would come 
out all light. 

I now bade her good-bye for, as I supposed, the last time. I 
had, then, no more expectation of ever seeing her again, than I 
have of dying before finishing this book. Of the next half-hour 
I will not write. Death, which I supposed inevitable, had no 
terrors for me, but the fate of my sisters, a thousand times worse 
than death, unmanned me. I had no idea that Joe would fulfill 
a promise. I would have willingly died to know that Emma and 
Ida were dead; yes, a thousand deaths, rather than that they 
should be subjected to such a fate — ^a squaw's life. 

Joe now motioned for Emma to get upon the horse he was rid- 



94 



ing, Cowan's horse. He lifted her to a place behind him and 
rode off. 

I presume I got reckless now, and it may be I was rather im- 
prudent, if not saucy. I saw my chief was looking at me, and I 
went to him and said: 

" 1 Vv-ant to see the little white girl over there." 

" No see'm," he replied. 

"Yes; let me see'm lit1||p white girl. You kill me to-day. I 
no care. Let me see little white girl." 

" No see'm. She go' now pretty soon," meaning that she 
would go with the Indians which was about to move. 

This made me mad, now, and I rather hotly said : 

" Nez Perces Indians no good. Kill'm my friends; take'm 
white woman prisoner. No good. Me no fight. Got no gun. 
Nez Perces cowards. Shoot my friends like dogs. No good." 

The chief continued smoking, and all the answer I got was a 
quiet smile, and, 

" You go get'm you horse." 

Handing me a rope, he said : 

" He go with you," pointing to the young chief, who had be- 
friended me the day before. 

We started, and with the assistance of a couple of squaws, we 
soon had the horses of this outfit, some fifteen in number, in an 
opening by themselves. We, with some other Indians, surround- 
ed them, standing about six feet apart. The " bucks " began las- 
soing such as they wanted to use during the day, and soon had 
caught all that they wished, except the horse of the chief— a large 
black horse, of unusual beauty and spirit — and the one he had 
ridden the day before. They soon caught the one I had ridden, and 
they told me to put a rope on him, which I did, and was about to 
lead him away, when one of the Indians told me to stop and help 
catch the chief's horse. 

They made several unsuccessful attempts to lasso him, and he 
broke through the circle by me several times, as I was holding 
my horse and could not stop hmi. E-ach time he would pass, the 



95 



Indian next me would throw the lasso but miss him, and then we 
would have to all go and drive him baek into the opening. 

I asked the Indian next me to give me his lasso and I would 
" catch'm horse," whieh caused no little laughter. He gave me 
the lasso, however, and I took it, trusting to luck. I knew I 
could not do worse than what they had done, and sometimes luck 
succeeds where science fails. I knew how it should be thrown, 
and that, as Dingee asserted about sailing the boat, was assurance 
that I could do it. 

The horse made a break to pass me, and, as he went by me, I 
threw the lasso over his head as neatly as it was ever done. Luck 
succeeded. As he reached the end of the rope I brought him up 
with a sudden jerk that certainly must have made him see stars. 
The Indians came around and said : 

" Heap good. Hi yu skook'^uin. Heap good white man." 

It was a " feather in my cap," that I tried to wear modestly, 
but I will admit to you, reader, confidentially, that I felt two 
inches taller than I did before. Fortunately there were no more 
horses to catch, as probably I could not have done the like again 
with a dozen trials. 

The Indians were now stringing out over the hills to the Yel- 
lowstone, and as I looked I saw Ida and Emma. Ida had a 
white handkerchief tied over her head, but Emma still retained 
her hat. I saw Shrively, too, more than a mile away, in the file 
of Indians. I mentally bid them fiirewell, as I rode in among the 
Indians. 

We had returned to camp with the horses, and they began 
packing up. I presume I was never busier in all my life than I 
was just then. The way I did throw those old traps together 
was astonishing. It may be inferred that I was nervous, too. I 
knew my fate had been decided, and I never expected to leave 
that camp, and when my chief came to me and said, " You get'm 
on horse," I got on that horse in a hurry, j/o?<; bet. He motioned 
me to take the mule and lead it as I had done before, and I im- 
mediately fell in love with that mule and all the appertenanccs 
thereunto pertaining. I cannot say I like work, but I know I was 



96 



never so anxious to do something useful in ail my life. I would 
have willingly worked for nothing and boarded myself. 

We were about the last to fall into line, and as we advanced we 
met warriors going back over the trail we had come the day be- 
fore. I thought then if any of the boys had been, so fortunate as 
to get away it was all up with them now. 

I was riding along by the side of the chief's squaw, not having 
seen him since we started, when, on looking up, I saw him com- 
ing back. He came up and we stopped. The squaw said some- 
thing to him, and he came on until within ten feet of me. The 
Indians near us had stopped, also, and were watching us. He re- 
moved his gun — a needle carbine — from his belt, flipped up the 
catch, took a cartridge and quietly slipped it into the gun, I fully 
understood the action; my time /I'ad come. I asked God to have 
mercy on my soul. I was ready. I think that no man fears to 
die when he knows that death is inevitable. I know that I did 
not, but the mental torture of the last twenty-four hours had 
made death welcome. Its near approach was a relief. 

The chief took his gun in his hand, ready to raise it, and then 
looked me squarely in the eyes for perhaps two minutes ; it seemed 
that long to me, at least. I returned his look without flinching. 
No white man would flinch at such a time. Not a motion was 
visible in the group by which we were surrounded; not a syllable 
w^as uttered. He raised the gun, dropped it, and said : 

" ME NO KILL'M YOU." 

Me go kllVm elk nozvP My life was spared. What did it? I 
know that he meant to kill me. Every motion and look, both of 
his and the surrounding Indians, convinced me of this. He said 
further: 

" Me tell you no go. No try to get'm way. Injun kilTm, you 
go. Me tell you now, you stay with scpiaw. You lead'm mule. 
Mc going to kilPm elk now. Me tell you, no go." 

Pointing over tlie valley on the trail, I saitl : 

" Me no go. You see'm white girls. Me stay with white 
girls. Me no go, you bct.^'' 



97 



Reader, this conversation may not interest you much, but to me 
it was the most intensely interesting httle talk of my life. It has 
lost its charm ; at least I do not care for a rej^etition. 

It was at least three minutes before I could make myself be- 
lieve that I was still alive. It took that long, if not longer, for 
my heart to leave my throat. 

The chief took his snaky eyes from my face, and, saying some- 
thing to the squaw, started off the trail to the timber. We again 
moved ahead, and as we rode along the Indians would point 
their fingers at me and say : 

" Heap good, you. Heap squaw, you. Heap squaw.."" 
I took their gibes in good part, as I could not help myself. 
As we rode along I saw many things that were su^Dremely lu- 
dicrous, and they have been the cause of much merriment to 
Emma and myself since. I did not see anything very funny in 
it then. There is one thini?- thou^^h I cannot well forc^et. It was 
this : 

About two miles from the scene, the pardcuLirs of v/hich I 
have just related, we saw an Indian riding slowly along and try- 
ing to decorate himself with five yards of mosquito bar that he 
had stolen from our wagon. He would pass it over his shoulder, 
then around his waist, but there was more of it than he could 
manage. He would try it one way, then another, but with no 
satisfactory result. He was too fitstidious. Again he would trv, 
look at himself, and again remove it. It did not suit. Finally he 
stopped his horse, and sprang ofl:' with a motion that was the 
very essence of disgust, and, passing behind his horse, tied one 
end of it to the horse's tail. He viewed it with satisfaction. 
^Mounting his horse he started ahead along the column as fast as 
he could go, with the mosquito bar streaming out behind. The 
Indians seemed to enjoy the sport, and as. he passed they each 
gave him an encouraging shout. It was fun for the Indian but 
hard upon the horse. 

As we rode along, the squaw I was v/ith stopped her pony and 
got ofifto fix the pack on the kyuse she was leading, and climbed 
back on. She did this twice. The next time she made a move 



98 



to dismount, I told her to sit still and I would fix the pack, and 
dismounted. This amused her considerably; I presume it was 
the first attention ever shown her. I arranged the pack, and po- 
litely raised my hat. She laughed outright. I remounted, and 
every time that the pack needed adjusting I w^ould jump down 
and put it to rights, with the greatest politeness. I was more 
than polite. 

I was dressed lightly, wearing nothing but a blue drilling 
blouse, light overalls and my underclothing, and as the wind 
arose on nearing the Yellowstone, I was uncomfortably cool. 
The wind continued to rise, and I grew correspondingly cooler. 
Looking around I saw a big greasy Indian with my overcoat 
comfortably buttoned about him. It made me mad. It was a 
good coat ; a large blanket overcoat that I had slept in during 
the trip; but it wasn't the value of the coat that roiled me. It 
was the principle involved. As he rode up I said : 

" Heap eoat " 

" Yes, heap coat. Heap warm," and he wrapped it more tight- 
ly around him. How I did want to reach out and snatch that 
Indian out of that coat. He, the dirty thief, riding along so com- 
fortably ni my coat, and I chilled through. 

We soon could see the Yellowstone about a half mile below 
us. We soon passed Mud Geyser and the Devil's Well. Near- 
the river we came to a group of Indians surrounding a white 
man. The Indian with my coat, said to me; 

" Who white man?" 

" I don't know," I answered. 

" Come with me," he said, and we rode up to where they 
were. 

" Hallo," says the white man, " arc you a prisoner too?" 

" Yes, are you?" I asked. 

" No, the Indians turned me loose," he replied. 

He then began telling me of tbe Helena party, another party 
of young men on their way to the geysers, who were encamped 
six or eight miles below, but I gave him a wink and he stopped. 
The Indian with me turned and asked me what I had said. I 



99 



told hini nothing. lie then asked the other white man what I 
had said; he replied, nothing. The Indian now got pretty warm, 
and whn-Hng around and facing me, angrily asked : 

'^ What you tell him?" 

" Nothing!" I said, about as loudly as he asked. 

My squaw, so to speak, as I was her property, now said to me, 
"come," and I followed her. As we rode away I heard the white 
man say to the Indian that he was going, as White Bird had 



turned him loose, and told him to go home. The next I saw of 
him he was fording the river in charge of the Indian. 

We crossec' the river and found that the Indians were orolnsr 
into camp for noon near the fording. We were passing through 
the camp, when I saw Emma and Ida about sevent3^-five yards 
distant from us. The girls were looking forlorn. Ida happened 
to look up, and saw me. She jumped to her feet and ran towards 
me, hallooing. 

" Frank, I want to see you, hold on. O Frank, I want to see 
you." 

I told her to go back and I would see her soon. She had 
reached the side of my horse and kept begging for me to stop, 
but I was compelled to go on. I called tor Emma to come out 
and take her back to camp, which she did. 

We went on some distance farther when the squaw stopped, 
sprang from her pony and motioned me to do the same. I clis- 
mounted v.nd removing the packs, turned the mule and horses 
loose. 

The squaw then gave me a v>^ooden pail and told me to go and 
get some water. I started for the river, about three hundred yards 
distant, and as I passed along the Indians raised their guns at me 
several times. I was more than nervous. On arriving at the 
river bank, I had to pass through a group of Indians standing 
there, but seeing no other chance to get down, pushed them aside 
and got the water. It was a delicate business for me, but they 
did not offer to molest me. 

As I returned the Indians kept pointing at me and saying, 



100 



" heap squaw; heap squaw. '^ I did not care so long as they 
only kept their tongues going. I could stand that. 

Arriving at camp, the squaw asked me if I could cook, 

"Yes," I replied. 

" Cook'm bread," she said pointing to some flour and a pan. 

I took the pan and put several cups flour in. Seeing some 
saleratus in a paper, I asked her if I should put some of that in, 
and she told me to do so. I put in about one and a half table- 
spoonfuls and began mixing it with the flour. I stirred away 
until she said : 

" Make'm bread. Put'm in water. Make'm bread." 

I put in some cold water and stirred it again, then added some 
hot water to make a pretty stiff dough. I then made up six 
round loaves and put them in an old frying pan in which I baked 
them, the squaw watching me closely all the time. The bread 
was soon baked, and it was a good rich color, that is if yellow is 
a rich color. 

The squaw had not been sitting idle but had made some wil- 
low tea and fried a little bit of bacon. She then turned to the 
Indians and told them that dinner was ready. At least I sup- 
posed she did, as they came crowding around for their rations. 
They still kept pointing their fingers at me and saying, " heap 
.squaw." 

As they were about to sit down, an Indian came tearing. over 
the hill and into camp at a fearful rate, shouting as he came. 
The Indians sprang to their feet and the camp was soon in the 
wildest commotion; Indians running here and there, shouting, 
getting up their ponies and starting on a run across the river. I 
got up beside a tree to see what was wrong, until I heard one 
Indian say "soldiers, soldiers." I would have given ten years 6f 
my life to have seen three or four liundred soldiers come march- 
ing over the hill then. Seeing that the Indians took the back 
trail on the other side ot the river, and that the squaws remained 
in camj^, I knew that the warriors were going to meet How- 
ard's troops. 

Soon the excitement subs,i;ded and I found that all the "bucks" 



101 



had gone except seven or eight chiefs and about twenty-five 
warriors. 

The squaws motioned for me to sit down and eat, which I did, 
eating sparringly of the bread and drinking a httle of the tea. 

About half an hour after we, had eaten, our chief came bade 
h*om his elk hunt. He rode up and says: 

"Hello?" 

I jumped up and pointnig to the hind quarters of a deer which 
he had on his horse behind him, asked: 

"Catch'm?" 

" Yes, catch'm deer," he answered. 

His squaw now came and took the meat, and turning- to me, 
said : 

" Cook'm more bread." 

I went through the process of bread making, and the squaw 
placed the meat in a couple of pots and placed it on the fire. She 
let it remain about long enough to get it warmed through, when 
she removed it and the chief, another Indian, and herself sat down 
to eat. Then followed one of the greatest gastronomic feats I 
had ever witnessed. They ate the hind quarters of the deer, five 
loaves of bread, a half pan of cammas root, drank a camp kettle 
of tea, and quit hungry. I thought of Dingee. It was a meal that 
discounted his. I had heard that an Indian could eat enough at 
a meal to last him a week, and I think these could have eaten 
enough at one meal to last them a month. I have often wondered 
at the large appropriations made by the government for the sujt- 
port of these Indians, but if this was but an ordinarj' "feed," I do 
so no longer. The "whiskey-ring of Montana" are welcome to 
such solace as this gives. 

The frugal repast being finished, the Indians heaped the pans 
and pots together, then sat arouhd in different places eating des- 
sert caught with a fine comb. 

Soon I saw Shrively, Emma, and Ida^oming over to our camp, 
and the events of the next half hour I pass over. I only pray 
that you, reader, may never have to endure what I did, 

Shrively now came up tt) us from where he had been sittmg, 



102 



and said the girls had better go back to camp, as Joe might be 
displeased with their long absence, and refuse to let them come 
again. My sisters clung to me, and with their arms about my 
neck begged me to kill them rather than leave them with the 
Indians. I was compelled to force them from me. Shrively 
promised me that they should never want for a friend, and that 
he would never leave them. 

I have said that on first seeing Shrively as he stepped from the 
bushes into the trail in front of Houston and our party, that he 
was the worst looking specimen of humanity I ever saw. I 
thought now that he was the best looking man beneath the heav- 
ens. To me, he was glorified. You cannot imagine how relieved 
I felt to know that I should leave among these devils, at least 
one friend to my sisters. 

They returned to White Bird's camp, and for the next two 
hours I did nothing but sit and w^atch the loungings, rather than 
motions of the Indians. They were spread around in the grass, 
somiC smoking and jabbering, and others with a portion of their 
clothing removed picking off desserters (not deserters) as afore- 
said. This was the occupation of my chief and his squaw, they 
taking turns In combing, with astonishing results. I think I 
never read of a more degraded worthless set. 

After a time my chief came near me, and I asked him if I 
could go down where the white girls were. He said, " yes; me 
go too; come." 

As we approached the camp we saw a number of Indians sit- 
tmg together, and near them were Shrively and the man that 
had been captured across the river that day b}^ the overcoat thief. 
I nodded as I passed the group, and went on to where Emnia 
and Ida were sitting on some robes a few paces beyond. 

While sitting here wc saw a number of squaws and papooses 
wearing coats, jackets and overcoats, belonging to our party 
Emma called my attention to a little Indian who was strutting 
around dressed in her sacque, wrong side in front, and nothing 
else. As he capered around .imong the others, he seemed to feel 
his sujicriority, and was in nowise diffident about showing it. We 



103 




THE GRAND CANYON, YELLOWSTONE VALLEY. 



104 



also saw a squaw wearing the skirt of Mrs. Cowan's riding habit. 
She had it fastened about the neck instead of the waist, and pa- 
raded with the stateHness of a Martha Washington. 

In about half an hour after my arrival here, we saw Joe com- 
ing into camp. He came up to where we were and saluted us 
Vith a " hello," to which I responded, " hello, Joe." He picked 
up a papoose and held it arm's length for a minute, playing with 
it, then kissing it, sat it down. He turned to the Indians near him, 
said something that I did not understand, and then went to 
the middle of the camp and began harangumg the Indians as be- 
fore. 

He soon came back and motioned for Shrively and the other 
white man to get up, and he spread a blanket on the ground a lit- 
tle ways from where we were, and told them to sit down upon 
it. He sjDread another blanket for us to sit u'pon, and we sat 
down, wondering what all this meant. We were not long left, 
in doubt. Our fates were to be determined by 

A COUNCIL. 

He now said something to the Indians, and a number of them 
sat down in a circle near us. I saw that there were seven of them, 
and that they were all chiefs. The other Indians near us stood 
around the, circle as spectators. 

Joe arose and, pointing to Emma, Ida and myself, addressed 
the other chiefs in broken English, saying: 

" Send'm home. Scnd'm home to Bozeman. Send'm down 
river to Bozeman. No kill him, (pointmg to me). No kill sis- 
ters. Send'm home to Bozeman. No kill." He sat down. 

Ennna and Ida began to cry, and I admit it was calculated to 
to make one nervous. 

Little Bear now arose, and I could see at a glance that he was 
not a friend, i may have been prejudiced, but I thought him the 
worst looking Indian I ever saw. He was dresse(l in a com- 
plete suit of scarlet, trimmed with black. He wore a hood or 
cowl, and to me lio seemed a devil Incarnate. As he arose I could 
sec hatred gleaming from his snake-llkc eyes, and as he proceed- 



105 



ed to harangue the Indians he grew furious. When excited he 
was hideous. He spoke in substance as follows : 

" Kill. Kill'm. No let'm go. White man bad. Kill'm him 
(pointing to me). Kill'm them (pointing to Shrively and the other 
prisoner). Kill'm all. White man no good. Citizen's kllTm 
my friends. Kill'm you friends. Kill'm squaw. Kill'm papoose. 
Kill'm friends in Big Hole fight. Heap kill Injun Big Hole 
fight. Citizens no good. Me tell you kill'm him (again pointing 
to me). Kill'm them (again pointing to the other men). Take'm 
white woman. Me take'm her (pointing to Emma). Make'm 
squaw. Take'm little white girl. By'm-bye make'm squaw too, 
Injun no let white man go. Heap kill." 

He continued thus for some fifteen minutes, growing more ex- 
cited as he spoke. His gestures and the manner of his pawing 
the ground when excited were terrible to witness, and I could see 
that his speech was having the desired eflfect upon the chiefs. 
They were getting excited and angry. Joe observed that he was 
gaining ground, and jumping to his feet, said : 

" No kill. You sit down." 

Little Bear sat down, though unwillingly, and Joe continued : 

" No kill. Me send'm home. Him sisters no kill. Nez Perce 
no kill. Send'm home to Bozeman. Me tell you=Nez Perce no 
kill. Me tell you now no kill. No kill'm white woman. No 
make'm squaw. Live twelve years in Montana. Everybody 
know'm white girls. Me tell you now no kill. Send'm home 
to Bozeman. Me tell you Nez Perce, you kill'm him, you 
make'm white girls squaw, citizens come, heap citizens come, 
catch'm Nez Perce, kill'm Nez Perce. Me tell you now no kill. 
Citizens come, kill'm Nez Perce. No stop kill'm Nez Perce. 
You kill him, make'm w^hite girl squaw, me tell you citizens 
come, never stop kill'm Nez Perce. Never stop. Never stop 
kill'm Nez Perce. Send'm home. Send sisters to Bozeman. You 
kill, citizens come, never stop kill'm Nez* Perce. Never stop 
kill'm Nez Perce." 

joe's speech helped our cause, yet on the faces of some of the 
chiefs we could see nothing but hatred. As they kept their eyes 
lo 



106 



fixed on our faces, trying, it seemed, to read our thoughts, it was 
terrible. 

As he sat down Joe took his pipe from a beautifully beaded 
buskin pouch, and began filling it with tobacco. During the time 
the Indians were talking in an undertone, but never removed 
their eyes from our faces. 

Having filled the pipe he lighted it, and givmg it awhiflforso, 
passed it to the chief sitting next on the left. This chief took it 
and gave it a whifF and passed it back. This was two votes for 
libert}^ Joe gave the pipe another whifF, and passed it to the 
next chief on the left, who took it but passed it to the next with- 
out smoking. This was the first vote for death. The fourth 
chief raised it to his lips, took a long whifF and passed it back to 
Joe. Our hearts beat lighter, as this was the third vote for lib- 
ert}^ Joe again took a draw and passed it to the fifth man who 
passed it to Little Bear. This was two votes for death. Little 
Bear motioned it away with a spiteful gesture, and the vote was 
a tie^ with one more to vote. Oh how v^e watched every mo- 
tion of that Indian. Upon him — depended all. The girls were 
crying now, thinking, as I did, that it was a forlorn hope. I saw 
nothing in his countenance to betoken sympathy, yet I never 
watched anyone as I did him. He took the pipe, paused an in- 
stant as if playing with our misery, then placed it to his lips and 
gave a vigorous pufif. We we7'e saved. The suspense was so 
great that I think I was stunned by the suddenness of the an- 
nouncement, and although the vote was taken twice more I real- 
ized but partially the transaction. 

I think no one ever suffered more keenly than I did during the 
progress of this council. As the vote progressed the girls grew 
more frightened, and before it was concluded they were clinging 
to my neck and crying for me to kill them, rather than let the 
Indians get them.. During the progress of the vote, Ida observed 
some squaws collecting wood for cooking purjDOses, and, suppos- 
ing it was for the purpose of burning us, screamed: 

"Frank, Frank, the}^ arc going to burn us alive. Kill me! 
Kill me ! Don't let them burn us ! " ■ 



107 



My God, it was horrible. I could not wish the worst enemy 
I have on earth a tithe of the mental agony I endured durini^- tlie 
time that the council lasted. I believe that I came as near going 
wild during that three-quarters of an hour as it is possible to do. 
I could see the tears trickling down the weather-beaten checlvs of 
Shrively at the agony of Emma and Ida. No amount of pli3'sical 
pain would bring a tear or a moan from such a man, yet he cried 
like a child at the sight of so much sufFering of a woman. Inured 
to the hardships and vicissitudes of a mountaineer's life, he still 
had a heart as large as the mountains in which he lives. 

FREEDOM. 

The council being over the chiefs arose and, with the excep- 
tion of Little Bear, who had gone off in disgust, had joined the 
crowd that had surrounded us during the exciting proceedings of 
the council.' Joe came to us and said: 

Send home now. Send'm your sisters home now. You three 
go home now." 

Emma and I crossed ourselves and thanked him for our lives. 
He motioned us to get up, and I went to the chiefs, each in turn, 
and shook hands with all, thanking those who voted for us. 

Joe told me to go and get a grey horse that stood about a hun- 
dred yards from us, and I took a rope, lassoed it, and soon brought 
it into camp. He said to me on my return: 

" Your sisters ride, you walk," to which I assented, telhng him 
I only wanted a chance to try my powers in that way. He said, 
further: 

" No get'm saddle for little girl. ' She ride'm bareback. Me 
no get'm saddle." 

He went out and soon returned with a yellow horse for Mrs. 
Cowan to ride and put an old saddle without stirrups upon it for 
her to ride in. He said he could not find her side saddle, but he 
lound her riding skirt and waterproof and gave them to her. 
He also picked up a p'iece of bread and gave it to her, saying: 

" Eat'm little. Drink'm water, no starve." 

Shrively gave Emma the address of his relatives that she might 
write them of his fate in case he did not escape. 



108 



We were now ready to depart and bidding the old man an af- 
fectionate farewell, the girls mounted their horses. Joe now led 
up his horse, or rather Mrs. Cowan's horse, and taking his gun, 
bade me get on behind him. I did so, and we started for the 
river. 

HOMEWARD BOUND. 

Joe and I were in advance, Mrs. Cowan came next and Ida 
was in the rear. The river was high, and as we were nearing 
the shore I looked back to see if all was well, I saw Ida perched 
upon the withers of her horse as high as she could get and the 
water running over the horse's back. I believe she would have 
said nothing if sh^ had drowned, such was her anxiety to get 
away. Seemg her perilous position, I said : 

"Joe, see little white girl, quick!" 

He turned his horse instantly, and started back to her, telling 
her to keep up the river farther. On reaching her I got the horse 
by the bridle and led it ashore. 

Joe told me his troubles as we were crossing, and he also told 
why the Ncz Perces had taken the trail. 

Having reached the Mud Spring we stopped and Joe asked me 
if I had matches. I told him that we had not, and he gave me 
some. I dismounted and Emma and Ida joining us, Joe turned 
and said : 

" Now my friends, good bye. You go down river, way down. 
No stop. Go all night. No stop. You go three days, get'm 
Bozeman. You go all night." 

" No get'm Bozeman, Joe, in three days. One hundred and 
fifty miles, no get'm Bozeman," I replied. 

" You no get'm Bozeman three days, Injun catch'm you," he 
again said. 

" All right,'' I said, and being anxious to get away, I extended 
my hand and said : 

" Good bye, Joe." 

*' Good bye, my friend," he replied, '-'good bye, my sister. Go 
now." 



109 



We had gone perhaps two hundred yards when we heard Joe 
coming after us with his 'horse at a gallop. Emma and Ida 
sprang from their horses and ran to where I was, saying, "we are 
gone now." 

Joe rode near us and said: 

" Hold on, my friends. Me want you to tell'm people in Boze- 
man me no fight no more now. Me.no want to fight Montana 
citizens. Me no want to fight Montana soldiers. Me want 
peace. Me no want to fight no more now. You tell'm Boze- 
man people." 

" Yes, me tell'm, Joe," I said. Pointing to the Nez Perccs 
camp, I continued : 

"Joe, red Indian out there bad Indian. Want'm my sister, 
make'm squaw. Joe, he come catch'm us by'm-bye. Bad Indi- 
an follow us down river, catch'm us." 

" Red Injun, bad Injun. Him Snake, Little Bear no good. 
Him bad Injun. My friend, me stay here half hour, watch'm 

Snake Injun. Him cross river me kill'm. G — d d n Snake 

Injun. No good. Watch'm him. Me watch'm Nez Perce, too. 

G — d d d Nez Perce. Me tell'm no kill you friends. 

Me tell'm yesterday no kill you, you friends. Nez 

Perce. Me go way head, they go back, kill'm you friends. — 

Nez Perce. Me no find out who kill'm you friend. Kill'm 

her husband. Me no find out who kiU'm, Nez Perce. 

Me tell'm to-day no kill no more. Me want peace. No kill no 
more. Nez Perce kilPm any more, me shoot'm Nez Perce. — 

Nez Perce. Me chief, tell'm Nez Perce, no kill no more. 

Me kill'm Nez Perce, they kill'm any more. Nez 

Perce!" 

Joe got considerably worked during the delivery of this little 
address, and swore terribly. I doubted his sincerity, and know 
that he lied when he said he had told them not to kill me. He 
was evidently following a course dictated by policy, rather than 
principle. I had learned the lesson of distrust and it abides with 
me still. He continued : 

" Good bye, my friends. Me tell you no go back towards* 



110 



Henry's Lake. No go that way. Injun go back to fight How-' 
aid's soldiers. Gone back Henry's Lake." 

I said to him : 

"Joe, Indians gone down river to^catch Helena party. Indians 
down there," pointing down the river. 

"No Injuns down there," he replied, " catch'm Helena party 
long time ago. Injun got'm horse long time ago. No Injun 
down there. Now my friends, good bye." 

We began to move off, when Joe again said: 

" You tell'm people Bozeman me want peace. Me no want 
fight more. Me no want fight Montana citizens. No want fight 
Montana soldiers. No want fight no more. Me go to Shoshone 
country, but you tell people me kill Lewistown soldiers all time. 
No stop kill'm Lewistown soldiers. You tell'm." 
" "Yes, I tell'm, Joe." 

" Tell'm in papers in Bozeman, me tell you." 

"All right Joe, I tell'm." 

" My friends, you tell'm Bozeman people me Poker Joe. Ev- 
erybody know Poker Joe in Bozeman. Me HVyu chief now. 
Big chief me. Tell'm all people in Montana, tell'm all citizens in 
Montana, if they come fight me any more, me kill all time. No 
stop kill any more. Me kill, Nez Perce kill. Kill'm all time. 
Kill'm every body. White man, white woman, papoose^ Kill'm all 
time. Never let'm go again, (pointing to us.) You tell'm. Now 
citizens come any more, soldiers come any more, me kill all time. 
Never stop. Good bye, my friends." 

" Good bye, Joe. You set'm my sisters free. You set'm me 
free. Me thank you, Joe. Maybe sometime soldiers catch'm 
you, me save you maybe. Me try anyway." 

" My friend," he replied, " soldiers never take'm me 'live, me 
die first. No take'm me 'live, me die first!" 

" Don't know, Joe. They catch'm you some time, maybe. 
I help you then." 

" Niever catch'm me 'live," he said. 

Again we exchanged the "good bye," and as I shook his hand 
I crossed myself. He turned to Mrs. Cowan, and said: 



Ill 



" Good bye, my sister." 

" Good bye, Joe," she replied and made the sign of the cross. 

Joe now turned to Ida and taking her hand, said: 

" Good bye, my Httle sister." 

Ida was crying, and as she bade hnn good bye she endeavored 
to make the sign as I had instructed her, but could only get half 
of it, that from the face to the breast, without crossing herself. 
This she did several times, noticing her mistake each time, and 
growing more confused the more she tried. It was pitiful to 
witness her distress, and yet it was ludicrous. She would say : 

" Good bye, Joe, (motion) I — (motion) shall always — (motion) 
pray for — (motion) yoa, Joe, (motion.) 

I could not help laughing, and I saw Emma smiling through 
her tears, It was the most complete "give way" I ever saw. 
Our Catholicism was at an end. 

Joe looked up and laughed outright as he saw the true state of 
affairs, but he good humoredly said: 

" Good bye, my little sister, yoit all rights any way P'' Turn- 
ing to us, he said: 

" Go quick now. Go quick!" 

We took his advice, and for the next few miles we moved 
quickly. 

We turned down the Yellowstone and ascended a high hill. 
Having reached the summit and being out of sight of the camp 
and Joe, we abandoned the trail and struck into the timber on 
the left and entered a group of pines about two hundred yards 
from the trail. We here stopped to listen, as Emma imagined 
that she heard some one following us. We could hear nothing. 

From our position we could see down the Yellowstone some 
eight miles, and as it was all open country, we could see the 
course of the trail all that distance. To follow this would expose 
us to the view of the Indians, as the position of their camp was 
selected partly because it commanded a full view of this trail. 
To the south-west towards Henry's Lake, distant about sixty-five 
or seventy miles, we could see timber, and we knew that it ex- 
tended unbroken all the way. Off to the left of Sulphur mount- 



112 



ain, north-east from our position, distant three or four miles, we 
coukl see a mountain, not very high, with some scrubby pines on 
the summit. 

I said to the girls that to reach that mountain was our only 
chance. Reaching it unobserved we could hide among the pines 
for the night. It is an open country lying between us and the 
mountain, and I knew that we had to do some fast traveling, 
across it. I said to the girls: 

" Girls we will, have to run for it. About a mi^e and a half 
from here we will strike a little creek that will shelter us from 
observation at the camp." 

" I do not see the creek,' said Emma. 

" You cannot see it until you strike it," I replied, ^'It is there 
nevertheless; and once there we are, for the time safe." 
She said: 

" It is all timber land between us and Henry's Lake. Let us 
go that way." 

'^ No," I said, "we cannot get back that way. The Indians are 
back there, and we can never get through." 

" I don't care," she replied, " I am going back where George 
is, I don't care if they do kill me. I am going to try and find 
him!" 

" Emma, you can't go b'ack. That's all there is about it. You 
would never get there. But if you did the Indians will get you 
sure." 

" Frank, I do not care. You and Ida can go home. I am 
going to George. We can never get away from these Indians, 
anyway. I know they are following us. If we have to die, let 
us get back where George is. I do not care how soon they kill 
me after I get back to his body. I am going back." 

" J^mma, Cowan is dead. What good will it do to go back 
to him now? You can not help him, and there is no use in rush- 
ing back into the Indians' hands. They will not kill you, but 
you will be taken prisoner again and be a thousand limes worse 
off than before. Ton shall not go to Cowan P"* 

1 thought then, and still think, that even had I known that 



113 



Cowan was not dead, I acted judiciously. It seemed to me she 
was crazed by the events of the day before. 

I seized the bridle, slipped the reins over the horse's head, and 
provided myself with a good stout club, and said further: 

"You stay upon the horse; we have got to get out of this. 
Go with us to that mountain and then if you still insist on s^oingf' 
back, I w^ill go with you." 

"All right," she said, "I will go that far." 

I then led the horse out of the timber, and, handing her the 
reins, said : 

" We w^ill now have to run for it." 

I took the horse by the tail, and, telling Ida to keep up, I 
brought the horse a whack with the club that started him at the 
top of his speed. I hung on to the tail, and every jump the horse 
made I gave him a whack. We made excellent time for that 
mile and a half. Had Joe seen us, he would have thought that 
we had followed his advice to the letter. 

We reached the creek that winds down throu;,;li the open 
country among low bluffs, that were not visible from our posi- 
tion among the pines, and here I told Emma to stop, while I went 
back to see if we had been observed from camp and followed. I 
crept to the top of a knoll but could see no signs of Indians, and 
returned. 

We turned down the creek and went, perha23S, a half mile and 
struck another small creek that I had rightly guessed was tribu- 
tary to this, and that headed up near the mountain that we wislied 
to reach. We turned up the creek and found that its banks would 
.effectually conceal us from the Indians in camp. We forced our 
horses ahead at as lively a gait as the nature of the ground would 
permit, and by a mile's travel we reached the foot of the mount- 
ains. 

In ascending the mountain was our greatest danger, since the 
Indians would certainly see us if they were looking in that direc- 
tion, as the mountain's sides were bare and in plain view of the 
camp. 

Telling the girls to remain where they were, I again went back 



114 



to a little knoll from which to reconnoiter. I saw some Indians 
skirting the timber land, going towards the Geyser Basins, but 
they soon disa^^peared, and I returned to the girls. 

I helped Emma upon her horse, she having dismounted, and 
again laid hold of the friendly tail of the horse. We had about 
three-fourths of a mile to make the summit, and I presume that 
the same distance on a mountain, going up, was never passed over 
quicker. I used my persuader, the club, in a manner anything 
hut pleasant to the horse. 

It vv^as near sun-down now, and I concluded we had better camp 
for the night. I tied the horses to a sappling, leaving them fixed 
in such a way, with their saddles on, that should any one find 
them they would suppose we had abandoned them and taken to 
the timber on foot. 

The girls had got wet in crossing the river, and, as the sun 
went down they began to get very cold, I thought it would be 
perfectly safe to build a fire, and, with that intention, scooped out 
a hole in the loose earth and jolaced some dry leaves and grass in 
it for that purpose. As I touched a match to it, the blaze shot 
three or four feet above the surface, and Ida immediately dashed 
upon it the earth I had removed, putting it out, saying she would 
rather freeze to death than be re-captured by the Indians. Emma 
also said she wanted no fire, and, telling them to remain where 
thev were, I took a scout around the mountain for Indians. 

In looking around I found a place wheie two trees, in falling, 
had crossed, and beneath them was a place that afforded both 
a shelter and a hiding place. I returned to the girls and, telling 
of my good fortune, we took the horse bhmket Joe had given us, 
and jMocceded to the trees. The girls crawled beneath them, 
and, covering them as best I could with the blanket, I again re- 
lumed to the summit to keep watch during the night. 

The moon was now uj), and its liright hght made objects at a 
flistance (liiite distinct. As I looked off towards the Oeyser Ba- 
sins, I saw objects moving on the trail frojn the basins to the 
river, wliich I took to be Indians. They disaj^peared after a time, 
and seeing nothing more, about midnight I returned to tlie girls. 



115 



I found them complaining^ of the cold, but they would not con- 
sent to my making a fire, so I crept, in beside them and tried to 
keep them warm. We simply suffered till daylight. 

At the first signs of day we left oiu- place of concealment, when 
I found that the girls were so benumbed \vith the cold that they 
could scarcely walk. After walkin.g about for some time they 
regained the use of their limbs, and we were again ready for the 
trail. Mrs. Cowan had concluded to follow m}- advice, and con- 
sented to our following the river towards Bozeman. 

We wx^nt to oiu- horses, and, removing their bridles, let them 
graze for a time, and again mounted them for our homeward 
trip. 

We descended the north side of the mountain, forded Alum 
Creek at its base, and then hurried across the open country be- 
yond, to the timber, three or four miles distant on the mountain 
side, which we reached, just as the sun was coming up. We en- 
tered the timber some thirty or forty yards, so as not to 1 te visible 
from the camp, and traveled thus, skirting it, until we struck the 
trail leading to the falls of the Yellowstone, some three or four 
miles below, and about eight miles from where we 2:)iirted com- 
jDany with Joe. 

As we struck the trail I saw a number of fresh pony tracks, and 
told the girls that the Indians were below or in advance of us. 
Emma wished to aliandon the horses, and take to the timber on 
foot. We stopped to determine what to do, and as we were con- 
versing, Ida exclaimed : 

"What is that?" 

We could hear nothing for a time, but directly heard what 
seemed to be some one chopping in the distance. Emma was 
sure it was the Indians below us, but I thought not, and proposed 
that we move forward a little ways, and gain a" position where 
we could see down upon the river. We advanced cautiously, still 
hearing the sound at intervals as we proceeded. We reached a 
point where we could look down upon the river, but could see 
nothing that would indicate the joresence of human beings, either 
friend or foe. We were intently listening when a wood-pecker 



116 



flew upon a tree near us and began pecking a dry bough, pro- 
ducing the same sound that we had heard. I remarked that that 
^vas the noise, and proposed that we now push ahead as rapidly 
as discretion wouki permit. Ida, however, insisted that it was 
not that kind of noise, and I am now" convinced that she was 
right, as we afterwards learned that Joe had lied to us about the 
capture of the Helena party the day before, and that they were 
captured about noon on the day we heard the noise, (Sunday), at 
a point on the river just below where we were. They were 
within a short distance of us, and were separated from us only 
by a small hill. Had we only found them we would have been 
spared much suffering, and saved the lives of those of the party 
:jhat were here murdered in a fev\^ hours afterwards. 

I now told the girls that I would go in advance a short distance 
aad thus be on a look out for Indians. I instructed them to imme- 
diately abandon the horses and strike into the timber in case I 
gave them warning of a23proaching danger, and that I would try 
to stand the Indians off until they made good their escape. 

We proceeded thus for a mile or so, when we again found 
fresh pony tracks. I sup^DOsed from the number that there must 
have been twenty ponies. We came to a place that was tramped 
over as if there had been a scuffle, here, and Emma suggested 
that it must have been the scene of the capture of the Helena boys. 
I think now, that it was where the ponies had been hitched the 
night l)efore. Here I found a red scarf that I supposed had been 
dropped by one of the boys, but on smelling it I found that it 
was most assuredly the property of an Indian. There is no mis- 
taking the smell. 

A little further on we came to where the trails separated, one 
bearing to the right, leading, as Houston told us, down by the 
IJj^per Fall, and the other, being that whicli we had taken to the 
Lower Fall. We took the right hand trail, and I soon saw that 
llie Indians liad taken the left. I felt then that we were safe from 
iinniediate caj)(urc, at least. 

I was now greatly fatigued and ravenously hungry, and it oc- 
curred to me to try an experiment that I had often heard was the. 



Ill 



means by which the Indians could endure so much fatigue and 
hunger. I took the scarf, and using it as a belt, drew it tightly 
about me. I felt much lighter, and the pangs of hunger less. 
During the day, I would occasionally tighten it, and, whether 
there be any virtue in it or not, I know it helped me greatl}-. 

We now ascended the mountain near the Lower Falls, and 
passing a little to the left, we could hear them roaring. I wanted 
Emma to stop and see the falls, but she peremptorih' refused. 
Ida also wished to go ahead as speedily as possible, and we pro- 
ceeded onwards. Attaining the summit, we crossed a little valle}' 
lying between the foot of Mt. Washburn and the Lower Falls. 
Here we found the camp of the Helena boj^s when they had vis- 
ited the falls. We could see the tent-pegs where they had pitched 
their tents. 

Soon after passing this we came to more pony tracks. We halt- 
ed and upon examination I found the marks of a trailing rope. I 
said to the girls that this was Texas Jack's party and that they 
were not far in advance. This gave us new courage, and we 
pushed ahead more briskly than before and soon passed over the 
four miles of flat lying between us and Mt. Washburn. 

We began the ascent of the mountain about eight o'clock and 
we did not reach the summit until about one®(»'clock. J never 
undertook a more difficult ascent, and weakened as we were, 
with fasting and want of rest, it was almost impossible for us to 
reach the summit. It was the most tiring task that I ever per- 
formed. 

As we reached the summit, Ida exclaimed: 
« Oh, I am so tired !" 

This was the first complaint from any member of the party, 
and I know she was suffering or she would not have given up. 
One of her age must have felt more keenly the pangs of hunger, 
than did we. Telling her to wait until we got down the mount- 
ain, we took an observation of the surrounding country before 
beginning the descent. We could see[[miles in every direction, 
but the prospect only discouraged us; we could see at a glance, 
the many obstacles to be encountered in our advance. Nothmo- 



118 



but mountains, ragged cliffs and dense timber on every hand. 

The air on Mt. Washburn was extremely cold as we were 
surrounded by snow and we soon began our descent. We went 
about a half mile below the snow limit, and camped off the 
side of the trail in some 2:)ines, and unbridled our horses and 
turned tiiem loose to graze. 

Emma was impatient to go ahead and get beyond the possibili- 
ty of recapture, and notwithstanding the fact of my showing her 
that we were in greater danger from those in advance, than from 
those in the rear, she insisted on our going on as speedil}^ as pos- 
sible. We did not let the horses eat long,- although the jaded 
brutes needed it badly enough, and soon were on the road again. 

The descent, although not so fatiguing, was a more dangerous 
one, as the trail wound in and out among the rocks, now up, then 
down, over rocks with fearful chasms, and by the edge of preci- 
pices that would make one shudder to glance over. We could 
still occasionally see the mark of the rope, and It was a constant 
source of encouragement, as I was momentarily expecting to see 
Jack's 2:)arty. How eagerly I watched and listened! 

After traveling for an hour or so, we again came in sight of the 
river, and looking back towards Mt. Washburn, which we had 
now left, and off to the right ot the trail, I could see falls coming 
from the snow and falling hundreds of feet. They looked like 
bands of silver. I called Emma's attention to them, and looking 
at them for a moment, she said : 

" Frank, I saw those falls from the Mammoth Hot Springs 
when father, mother, Ida, and myself were there four years ago. 
They are the Tower Creek Falls. We can not be far from the 
vSprlngs now. Let us hurry on and we will find Jielp there, as Mc- 
Carty and McQiiirk live there. We can get there before ni^ht, 
if we hurry." . 

We began the descent towards Tower Creek and could now 
sec the Yellowstone quite plainly. At three P. M. we made the 
creek ruid here camped upon the camping ground of all tourists 
on their way to the geysers from ]?ozeman. It is the ground for 
the first night's camp alter leaving the Springs. 



119 



We concluded to rest here for a time, and let our horses feed. 
Ida kept saying she was hungry. Emma had given her all the 
bread that she had, and we could do nothing more for her. I 
proposed, however, that we search among the remains of the 
camp fires, a great many of which are here found. We began 
the search by poking around in the ashes and kicking them aside, 
each hunting in a different direction from the other. 

I found a piece of "hard-tack" and removed the dirt from it, 
and kept it until the girls came back, Emma soon returned, and 
I offered it to her but she declined it, saying she had found a 
piece of bread. Ida had not returned yet, and looking up the 
creek I saw her standing in a little thicket of bushes, partially 
concealed from view. I thought she acted strangely and called 
to her, saying: 

" Ida, what are you doing?" 

" Nothing," she replied. 

But she made no move towards rejoining us, and stood with 
her hands behind her. Again I called : 

" Why do you stand there? Come down here. What ails 
you?" 

" Nothing," she again replied. 

" Look here," I said, " Emma and I have found some bread!' 

" I got a little piece too," she replied, *'/'m so hungi-y r"" 

" Well, eat it, we do not want it." 

She rejoined us, and showed us her treasure. It was a small 
piece, and seemed as if it might have been baked by Lewis and 
Clarke in '45. 

The girls insisted on my eating the cracker that I had found, 
as I was subjected to greater exertions than they, being compelled 
to walk while they could ride. We ate what we had each found, 
and I think that I have never eaten anything that I relished so 
much. We had eaten nothing, comparatively, since Thursday 
night, the night prior to our capture. The want of rest was tell- 
ing fearfully upon us, too ; we had slept none since our capture. 

After we had eaten our morsels of bread, we drank from the 
creek and felt much better and stronsrer. We were sitting be- 



120 



neath a large pine tree, and upon looking above our heads I saw 
the name of Richard Detrich, with the date August 25th. The 
Helena party had evidentl}^ camped here on Thursday night, the 
34th, and this ^vas written b}^ Detrich on Friday morning, the 
35th. I took a notice that was also posted here, and wrote upon 
the re^'erse our names w^ith the statement that we were all that 
w^ere left of a party of ten, captured on the 25th in the basin, with 
the date Aug. 27. 

We got up the horses, crossed the creek and again began climb- 
ing mountains. The mountain just here was so steep, that the 
girls were compelled to dismount and walk up, holding to the 
horses tails and thus compelling them to pull them up. This had 
been my mode of traveling up the mountains. 

After ascending this mountain we encountered nothing of note 
until w^e had reached a point about fifteen or sixteen miles from 
where we had camped, or rested rather. I was walking in ad- 
vance as I had been doing throughout the day, except when 
climbing mountains, when I suddenly saw some distance in ad- 
vance several head of horses grazing upon the mountain 
side. 

" Look out! Indians," I said to the girls, who sprang from their 
horses and concealed themselves in the undergrowth of timber. 
Telling them to remain where they were, I cautiously advanced 
to reconoiter the position of the Indians. 

Crawling upon my hands and knees I reached the edge of the 
hill and came to a place that gave me an unobstructed view up 
and down the creek, but I could sec nothing of Indians. As I 
looked I saw smoke curling up above a clump of bushes beyond 
the creek. I watched it closely for a while, and directly saw a 
soldier rise. Tliinking that he might be a captive, I still waited 
and soon had the inexpressible pleasure of seeing another rise. I 
knew then ihat we had found friends. 

WE WERE SAFE. 

I rushed bat'lv to where the girls lay concealed and shouted: 
" Come on, we arc safe! They are soldiers!" 



121 



The girls sprang to their feet and fairly jumped for joy. I 
started on a run down the hill, leaving the gn-ls to follow on the 
horses, and created no little sensation in camp as I sprang in 
among the soldiers with the heartiest, " How are you. Lieuten- 
ant?" that I ever uttered. 

It was Lieut. Schofield with a squad of soldiers on a scout. 
. " How are you, sir?" he replied, as he examined me critically 
from head to foot. 

" Got anything to eat?" I asked. 

" Yes, who are those ladies coming down the hill ?" 

"Mrs. George Cowan, and Ida Carpenter, my sisters." 

" What are you doing out here with them without grub?" 

" We are all that is left out of a party of ten. But give us 
something to eat and I'll talk with you then." 

The soldier boys began to bustle around lively and prepare 
supper for us. The girls came in to camp, and being introduced 
to the Lieutenant, asked for soap and a towel. The articles be- 
ing supplied them, they went to the creek and washed, and said 
they felt much better. They certainly looked better. In the 
meantime I gave the Lieutenant an outline of our experiences 
with Chief Joseph's band, and such information as to their where- 
abouts, numbers, etc., as I could. 

One of the boys took the horses and led them out to graze. 
As he removed the saddle from Emma's horse, he threw a deer's 
shank upon the ground with the remark " I guess you will not 
want that now." It was a bone that I had picked up on the way and 
tied upon the saddle, intending to make it the last resort before 
starvation. I thought I could make a soup from it, in a tin cup that 
I had found on the way, that had been dropped, probably by 
Texas Jack's party,and flattened out by a poney tramping upon it. 

Supper v^as announced, and if I ever enjoyed eating I did then. 
Schofield said it did him good to watch us. It may be remarked 
that we did not stand on formality, neither do I remember that 
either of us crossed ourselves. I thought of Dingee and his me- 
lodious "grub pile." Poor fellow! I regretted the gibes I had 
given him in a spirit of fun. 



II 



( 



^ 



12 



emerged from the canyon and, crossing the river, were soon at 
the springs and 

WITH FRIENDS.- 

Here we found Texas Jack's party. McCarty and all the rest 
did all for us that it was possible for them to do. About eleven 
o'clock Schofield came in and asked us if we wished to send any 
word to our friends, as he was going to send a courier to Boze- 
man that night. I sent a message for my brother in Helena to 
be telegraphed from Bozeman, telling him of the safety of Em- 
ma, Ida, and myself, but of the death, as I supposed, of the rest 
of the party. We soon retired to the rest that we all so much 
needed. 

About three A. M. we were awakened by the tramp of horses 
and some one without hallooed, " Roll out, and let us in." 

We sprang from our beds and on opening the doors found four 
of the Helena boys, Wilkie,'Andy Weikart, Jack Stuart and the 
darkey, Ben. Stone. We took them in and found that two of 
them were badly wounded. Weikart was shot through the 
shoulder, a flesh wound, and Stuart had a bad wound in the ankle 
and another in the thigh, the ball having passed directly through 
it shattering the bone in its passage. We did the best we could 
for all, and dressed the wounds of the wounded men and made 
them as comfortable as we could. As a matter of course we slept 
no more that night. • 

T. he next morning Calfe and Catlin, two photographers, came 
and told us that if we would wait until ten o'clock they would 
take us to Bozeman with their four mule team. This was 
good news,as neither Emma nor Ida could walk or ride horseback. 

Lieut. Schofield and soldier boys nnd.Pfister, started for Boze- 
man early in the morning, and about ten o'clock we left the 
springs with Calfe and Catlin. 

When we had reached the summit of the hill below the springs 
wc saw Texas Jack looking through his spy-glass up the can^-on 
towards Gardiner's River. Looking in the direction I saw two 
person running towards tis in and out of tlic bushes skirting the 
vivcn 



12^ 



" Who is it?" I asked, " Indians or white men?" 

" I think it is two white men," he repHed, "but I think there 
are five or six Indians following them." 

We afterwards learned that the tw^o men were Detrich and 
Duncan. 

Jack, turning to us, said : 

" You go on and overtake our party which is not far in advance, 
and I'll go back and give those Indians a shot or two." 

We now started down the mountain towards the Yellowstone 
three miles distant. Just as we began the descent we heard fire- 
ing in the rear. This frightened Emma and Ida, and they be- 
came very nervous again. Calfe rode up behind us saying : 

" Drive fast, Catlin, I guess the Indians have attacked the 
Springs." 

Down the mountains we went pell mell, and we soon reached 
Henderson's Ranche, eight miles from the springs. Here we 
were rejoined by Texas Jack, who told us that he had shot two 
of the Indian ponies and driven the Indians back. This news 
relieved our anxiety considerably and we began to breath easier. 
We soon drove down into the canyon of the Yellowstone, a wild 
and rugged place, just suited for an ambuscade for Indians. We 
feared trouble here, but Texas Jack went in advance scouting for 
us, and about midnight we emerged on to Bottler's Ranche. The 
Bottler Brothers showed us every possible attention, and an old 
Scotch lady was very kind. 

The next morning many friends from Emigrant Gulch and the 
surrounding country came in, and the ladies cheered up Mrs. 
Cowan considerably. Ide had fully recovered the use of her feet 
and here Texas Jack presented her with a pair of beautiful moc- 
casins. They were very acceptable. 

We remained here until about noon and then again took the 
road for Bozeman. We had not been gone more than an hour 
when we met Mr. David Boreum, of Bozeman, coming to meet 
us with a carriage. He is an intimate friend of Cowan's and hav- 
ing heard of this disasteV that had befallen our party, immediately 
started to meet us. The sight of him awoke the pleasant mem- 



124 



and going In every direction. I saw two of the boys coming 
towards me and I lit out for the river. I reached the river and 
on looking back heard two shots and some one exclaim, 
"O, my God? 

I don't know who these two were but think it was Jack Stuart 
and Kenk. I swam the river," came down to Burnett's bridge, 
recrossed to this side, and here I am, and I am going to leave this 
section of country as soon as God Almighty will let me. I don't 
think any of the boys got away. The Indians piled the bullets 
in plenty." 

Lieutenant Schofield told his boys to pack up and we would 
go to the springs that night, as the Indians were likely to visit 
us here at any time. He told Pfister and m3^self that he would 
give us a mule to ride down. Pfister said he would go ahead 
and we could overtake him, but I told him to hold on and we 
could ride the mule together. He agreed to this and after having 
disposed of his coffee and bacon, given by the soldiers, we were 
all ready to start. 

Schofield said he had been on a scout to the top of Mt. Wash- 
burn but could see no Indians, but his guests were willing to tes- 
tify that they were there nevertheless. I knew I not only heard, saw 
and felt them, but had tasted and smelt them as well. My five 
senses didn't deceive me. 

We were soon mounted and off for the springs, distant eight- 
een or twenty miles, and began climbing over mountains again, 
and as. Pfister and I rode along both on one mule, I gave him an 
account of the fate of our party. 

We reached the canyon of Gardiner's River above the springs 
about nine o'clock that night, and then followed the passage of 
the canyon, a most difficult feat even in the broad light of day. 
The trail, which is very narrow, winds down through the can- 
yon on the verge of a i^recijiice hundreds of feet high. We could 
hear the roaring of the river in the rapids below us, but could see 
nothing as it was very dark, the moon not having risen. A mis- 
step would have hurled us to instant -death on the rocks below, 
and wc cautiously threaded our way for an hour, when we 



125 




HOT SPRINGS, ON GARDINER S RIVER. 



^ 



12 



Having satisfied the cravings of the Inner man, I took an in- 
ventory of dry goods and clothing we had on hand. We w^ere 
in a sorry phght, and I was forced to the conclusion that as true 
representatives of the Carpenter family, we were not a success. 

Ida was bare-headed, bare-footed, with her dress torn to shreds. 
Emma was not much better, but she had the advantage of a hat. 
They were covered with dust, tanned, with eyes badly swollen 
from crying, and presented anything but a prepossessing appear- 
ance. It may have been a brother's prejudice, but I thought I 
had seen them looking better. 

My clothing was scarcely worthy of note ; that is, there was 
scarcely enough of it to note. It was a picturesque costume, 
though cool. I had been playing in a sanctimonious game since 
my capture, but that was not the exact reason for my holy suit. 
The hat Mann had given me, I "swapped off" to an Indian, 
and got a good one. It had not suffered any since our escape 
and was good yet, barring the loss of the crown and most of the 
rim. It rested tranquilly on my neck, while my head stuck 
through the top, and my ears through the sides, and what there 
was of the rim flapped cunningly up and down as I walked. 

Lieutenant Schofield and his boys did all they could to relieve 
our wants, and furnished us with such clothing as they could. 
Among other things they gave Ida a soldier's overcoat which 
she wore gracefully. 

We had been in camp but about an hour when the Lieutenant, 
looking up the trail, said : 

" There comes another of your party down the hill now." 

I jumped to my feet, and looking at the approaching person, 
said : 

" That is none of our party. I guess it is one of the Helena 

boys." 

All eyes were fixed upon the stranger now, who came tcarnig 

down the hill with his hat in his hand. He crossed the creek 

and came into camp and saluted us with a: 

" Hello, Frank, is that you?" 

"Yes, what's the mattm?" I answered, " arc you one of the 
Helena party ?" 



^ 



1% 



" Yes, and my name Is Pfister. I guess the Indians got the 
rest of the boys." 

" Where were you attacked?" asked Schofield. 

"Just above the falls, to-day," he replied. 

The little ripple of excitement caused by Pfister's summary 
entrance soon subsided, and he gave an account of the capture of 
the boys, about as follows: 

" Our party consisted of Messrs., Kenk, Stuart, Roberts, Toi- 
ler, Welkart, Duncan, Detrich, VVilkie, Ben. Stone, the colored 
cook, and myself, and were on our way to visit the Geyser 
Basins. Yesterday we were encamped near Sulphur Mountain, 
and during the afternoon one of the boys said he had seen cither 
an herd of buffalo or elk, or a band of Indians, about five or six 
miles above us on the other side of the Yellowstone River. 
Duncan took a spy-glass and went up on the mountain to deter- 
mine if possible, what they were. He soon returned and said 
they were Indians, and proposed that we get out of that as soon 
as possible. We, accordingly packed up and moved back three 
or four miles, when one of the boys proposed that we go no farth- 
er, as Howard was after the Indians, and by to-morrow they 
would be gone, and we pitched our tents there. We camped 
for the night, but some of the boys wanted to go back home, but 
the majority was of the mind to go ahead to the geysers, as we 
had come thus f\ir, and the journey was almost completed. • 

Kenk and Duncan said they were going back, Indians or no 
Indians, and Kenk left us and went as far as the falls, but returned 
about ten o'clock last night, as no one had followed his example. 

We got up about six or seven o'clock this morning, and Andy 
Weikart and Wilkie took their horses and went out on a scout. 
They were to fire their guns if they saw Indians, and we waited 
three or four hours for them to return. It was nearing dinner 
time and I left the camp for the purpose of getting wood, leaving 
some of the boys asleep, and the remainder sitting about the 
camp fire. I was busy getting wood when all of a sudden, pop, 
pop, went the guns and I heard the Indians' yip, yip ! I looked 
around and saw the camp full of Indians with the boys jumping 



128 



oiies of the past and gave poignancy to Mrs. Cowan's grief. 

We now bade Catlin and Calfe good bye, with warm thanks 
for their kindnesses, and transferred ourselves to the carriage of 
Mr. Boreum. Our baggage having been left in charge of Chief 
Joseph, we had no Saratoga trunks to bother us. 

A drive of fifteen miles brought us to a ranchc, where we 
stopped for supper. Here, we found quite a number of ladies who 
showed the girls every attention. By the time' we had' got sup- 
per it was late, and as the ladies had insisted on our remaining, 
we concluded to put up for the night. We retired about eleven 
o'clock, but not to sleep. I was nervous and lay awake for some 
time,but about one o'clock and was just foiling asleep when I heard 
the tinkle of a bell and the tramp of horses coming up the valley. 
I knew instantly the meaning of it, and sprang up and said to 
Boreum, with whom I was sleeping: 

"Dave, Indians! They are stam^^eding the horses in the 
valley." 

Boreum was out instantly, and grabbing his gun and giv^ing 
me a revolver, we started to bring in our horses. As we stepjx'd 
out of the house we saw the flash and heard the report of two 
ginis three or four hundred yards down the valley. The Indians 
had secured the horses, and were stampeding close to where tlie 
shots were fired. 

We soon brought up the two carriage horses, and having tied 
them near us awaited further develojiments. Soon Calfe and 
Catlin came up with their team and told us that they had shot at 
the Indians when they were trying to cut the picket ro^^es of the 
mules. 

Neighbors soon began coming in, and everything was for a 
time, in an uproar. The night was cloudy and dark, and we did 
not know what minute wc^night be attacked. Emma and Ida 
sprang from their beds at the reports of the guns, and were con- 
siderably frightened, and the crying of the neighbors as they 
came in was not calculated to allay their fears much. 

It was not a time for merriment, yet I was amused at one inci- 



129 



dent. A fellow came running up to the house as rapidly as he 
could, and as he came to the door, he hallooed : 

" Get up, get up! For God's sake, get up! The Indians are all 
around us and we will all be murdered before morning!" 

Dave sprang out of the house and grasping the horse's bridle, 
and laying hold of the fellow, said : 

" Here you d — d fool you, what ails you ? Don't you know 
anything? There are two ladies in the house that have just got 
away from the Indians and they have gone through enough Vv'ith- 
out yourv scaring them. Shut u^:) your mouth you d— d fool you, 
or I'll blow the top of your head off!" 

The fellow, who was almost frightened to death before, now 
seemed to be stricken dumb. He slid down off his horse and set 
down as meek as a lamb. It was the most sensible thing he 
could have done as Dave is in the habit of ^Dutting his threats into 
disagreeable execution. He is little, but he is large with a re- 
volver. 

The following morning the scene about the ranclic was rather 
rumpled. It seemed as if every bod}^ in the country, with all 
their movable property had assembled here during the night. 
There were horses, packs, saddles, household goods, from a stove 
poker up, women, children, wagons, etc., etc., piled around pvo- 
miscuously. In their disposition effect had not been studied but 
At was, nevertheless, j^leasing. 

^ We discovered that the Indians had not got away with any of 
the horses, as the shots of Calfe and Catlin had scared them off 
and they had. abandoned everything and cut for the mountains. 

At nine o'clock w^e were again e7i route, and we drove into 
Bozeman about noon, on Wednesday. 

HOME AT LAST. 

Ida, I presume, was the only member of the party that seemed 
to fully realize the pleasure of being among friends, free from 
danger again. Emma felt more keenly than ever her loneliness 
as all the surroundings constantly reminded her of CoWan. 

As for myself, I not only mourned the loss of so liiany brave 



134 



"wipe off his chin, and give the boys the story," he began. 

"Houston. — "Well, I came down from Clark's fork on Wednes- 
day and heard at the springs of the shooting of Cowan and his 
party and the escape of Frank and his sisters. I inquired where 
it was, and they told me near the MudSprings, and I started out 
to bury Cowan, and to try and find the balance of the party. I 
got up as far as Burnett's bridge where I found that 'cuss' (point- 
ing to Jimmy) prowhng around. He says, 'Hello, what's the 
matter ^vith you?' and I replied ' I had lost some Indians and 
was going up the river to find them." 

Jimmy (breaking in). — "Yes, and he found them, too. You'd 
a thought so to have seen him run." 

Houston. — "Jim, shut your trap. Well, says Jimmy, I'll go 
with you. I then told him about Cowan and crowd. We got 
up skulking around all day Thursday, and on Friday afternoon 
we rode up on the top of a hill near Mud Geyser, when looking 
across the river I saw the squaw camj^. Turning around to 
Jim, I said: 'we've struck it.' ' Struck what? ' he asked. 'The 
squav/ camp,' I replied." 

Jimmy D. (again interrupting) — "Yes, and don't you think 
that cuss got off his horse and sat down there right in sight of 
camp." 

Houston. — "Jim, who's telling this story, you or I? Well, I 
looked across the river and saw a white man and several Indians 
dressed in white men's clothing. ' Well,' says Jimmy, * whar 
you going to do about it?' I handed hnn the glass, and said, 
'Let's take a trip through camp. We can cross the river, and 
get into tlic squaw, camp, shoot what Indians we can, and pass 
througli tlic camp up towards Clark's Fork. We can go 
through on a run, and they haven't anything that can catch us.' " 

Jimmy D. (again) — " Yes, that d d fool wanted to do that." 

Houston. — " Well, I noticed that you said all right, you'd go if 
I would." 

Jimmy D.— " Well, / noticed that we got up and went, too, but 
not across the river." 

lloustouc — " Well, we got upon our horses and d d if we 



1 



weren't surrounded by Indians. Jim says, ' well, are these the 
Indians you lost, George? ' I said, ' you just follow me,' and I 
turned Tohnny (his horse) loose, and we made a break through 
them. They piled it to us lively, but didn't catch nary one of us. 
Then we had the prettiest race from there to the timber above 
the falls (eight miles) you ever saw." 

Jimmy. — " I never saw a man run so fast since God made little 
apples." 

Houston — "Well I notice that you kept so close to me thatj'ou 
didn't get any sand in your eyes. Well, we struck the timber 
and waited for the Indians to come up, but they took care not to 
come in rifle shot of the timber. They went into the grass plenty. 
We came down to Burnett's Bridge last night, saw some Indians 
crossing, camped in the hills, came in this morning and here we 
are." 

On Sunday scouts were sent out again. Two scouts sent out 
on Saturday did not return until Sunday noon. They brought in 
two men that had received close calls, as one was shot through 
the neck, and the other had holes shot through his clothing. 
They were scouts from Sturgess' command with dispatches for 
Howard. One of the scouts, John GofI by name, had an Indian 
boy, that he had raised, with him when they met the Indians. 
The boy was killed and left near Burnett's Bridge. 

I had become impatient at the delay, and on Monday morning 
asked Lieutenant Doane if he was going to move forward soon. 
He replied that he could not until he got orders to that effect. 
He added that he did not expect to go to the Lower Basin at all, 
as he thought his orders would be to follow the Indians. I told 
him then that I thought of returning to Bozeman, and trying to 
reach the basin by the route up the Madison. He thought it best 
for me to do so, as he could do nothing for me, and the party of 
citizens was too small to go ahead. 

Houston advised me to return to Bozeman, and see the friends 
of our party, and he assured me he would find Cowan's body, 
and bury it, I concluded to follow the advice, and with Weikart, 



132 



" I seed dc Injuns comin' aroiui' in de foah-noon dis mornin'. 
I tola Detrich \^e had better be a gettni' out of dis, but he kept a 
sayin' ' I'll neber go back to ISIrs. Roberts widout Joe,' 'Bout 
'leven or twelve o'clock Detrich says, * I'll go down an' change 
de bosses, repicket dem, while you git dinnah, Ben.' I say 'all 
right.' 

"Well, while he was gone a changin' ob de bosses, I looked out 
ob de doah an' seed a Injun stick his head up ober a rock out in 
front ob de house. I didn't wait for no lebe, I didn't, an' dropped 
eberyting an' bolted trew de back doah, I did, up into de timbah 
an' laid down awaitin' for somethin' to do next. I seed de In- 
juns all 'bout de house an' pears like dey was mighty anxious to 
fine me, but I wasen't anxious to fine dem. It war gettin' along 
towards night, and I dim a tree. Purty soon a big Injun rode 
right down under de tree a searchin' aroun' for me. I. jes hel' my 
bref an' say to myself, 'O Mr. Injun; good Mr. Injnn, don^i look 
up dis zvay r Boys, I 'clare to goodness I could iiab touched dat 
Injun's head wif my foot hut I didfi't! 

"Bye'm-by de Injun go away down towards de springs an' I got 
down on to de groun' an' strike for de side ob de mountain whar 
I laid down. I was a layin' in de brush, when all ob a sudden I 
heerd a crackin in de brush. Den, boys, I got right down on 
my knees and j^i'ayed, (an' I hope de God A'mighty forgive me, 
I neber prayed before sense I lef ' my modder's knee,) but I jes 
got down an' say ' O Lod God A'mighty, jes help me out ob dis 
scrape an' I will neber interfere wid you no moah!' I heerd dis 
noise an' a crashin' in de bushes again, and I jes laid down wid 
my face to de groun' an I spectcd to feci de tom hawk in de 
back of my head. All ob a sudden I turned ober and dar I seed 
a big black bar a lookin' at me. Boys, / ?icbbcr was so glad to 
see a bar afore in my all lijc. De bar he got up an' run, an' I 
got up an' rund to de top ob de mountain when I saw youah 
camp fire an' heali I is — bress de Lod!" 

Weikart and McCarty arrived during the night and reported 
the burying of Kenk, and narrated their adventures. On their 
return they met the Indrans that burned the ranchc and had had 



133 



their horses shot from under them. The details of their escape 
were interesting, but too long to be inserted here. 

McCarty said that George Houston had been down to the 
springs on Wednesday and he and Jimm}^ Dewings had gone 
back to bury Cowan and the rest of our party. 

Saturday morning a courier came from Bozeman with dis- 
patches and orders for Lieut. Doane to remain where he was, 
and wait for Col. Gilbert and command, Doane now sent out 
his scouts and several couriers with dispatches to Gen. Howard. 
I sent a dispatch to Gen. Howard requesting to be informed of 
the recovery of any of the bodies of the party should they find 
them. 

The different scouting parties came in Saturday night, some 
on foot, their horses having been shot from under them, and they 
barely escaping with their lives. They reported Indians all 
around us on the mountains. During the day a number of us 
went up to the springs and buried Detrich. Saturday night, 
stragglers from surrounding ranches kept commg into Doane's 
camp, and on Sunday morning Geo. Houston and Jimmy Dew- 
ings came into camp on a run with their horses wet with sweat. 
They were given something to eat and between bites Doane 
elicited the following: 

Doane. — " Did you find the squaw camp?" 

Houston. — " O, no, we just found the squaw camp. 

Doane. — "How many Indians did you see?" 

Houston. — " Plenty, you bet, they hooped us up lively, too!" 

Doane. — *'How are the Indians fixed as regards ammunition?" 

Jimmy D. — G — d, they're fixed plenty, you bet your boots! 
Come d — n near fixing us. My Caeser, I never saw a man run 
so in all my life as George Houston did!" 

"Houston. — " Well, I noticed that you kept up to me pretty 
well." 

One of the crowd. — " George, go on and tell us all about it." 

Jimmy D. — " Just wait till he gets through that pile of grub 
before him. He's got a government contract on storage." 

Houston finished eating, and with a prompt from Jimmy to 



130 



boys and intimate friends, but I was constantly upbraiding my- 
self for having induced them to go. True, they went voluntari- 
ly, yet I had organized the party and could not rid myself of the 
feeling that I was in a measure responsible for the disaster. It 
was I that proposed going to the Indians in opposition to the ad- 
vice of Arnold, which perhaps, was the better and should have 
been followed. The fact, too, of none of them escaping with 
the exception of my own family, would appear against me in 
public 02)inion I thought, and added to my dissatisfaction with 
myself. Matters looked dark for me. I concluded there and 
then, that if none of the boys got out safe, Helena would see me 
no more. 

Just as we were driving into Bozeman, we met Lieut. Doane 
with ninety-five Crow Indians on the way to catch Nez Perces. 
I remarked that, notwithstanding the saying "set a thief to catch 
a thief," I would bet he could not get one of his Crows to touch 
a Nez Perces. Subsequent events proved that I was right. 

In Bozeman we went to the North Pacific Hotel, and were 
hospitably entertained by the gentlemanly proprietor, George 
Wakefield and his estimable lady, to whom we shall always en- 
tertain most grateful feelings. 

We found that a party of citizens were being organized to go 
and bury Cowan and search for the bodies of the rest of the boys, 
and I asked Dave Boreum to provide me with a horse and gun, 
which he did. Putting Emma and Ida in charge of Mrs. Wake- 
field and others, with the request that they be forwarded home 
the next day, I bade them good bye and joined the party for the 
search. 

There were but six or seven of us, not a very formidable party 
to encounter Chief Joseph, but we expected that Howard's troops 
were closely following the Indians and that they had ere this left 
the neighborhood of the geysers. We rode until twelve o'clock 
that night, when we came to an okl man's cabin by the road side. 
Here McPherson, one of llic party, suggested tliat we stop for 
the nCght and we dismounted. I immediately went into the cab- 
in nnd snt down in u chair. That is all I remember until eight 



131 



o'clock the next morning when I awoke and found myseh' lying- 
on the floor on some blankets. The boys told me that I had 
fallen asleep as I sat down, and that tliey had picked me up and 
laid me out. I was completely exhausted. 

We traveled Thursday all day and overtook Doane's partv at 
Butler's Ranche that evening. To Doane I gave all the informa- 
tion I could relative to the Indians. 

Here we learned that Jack Stuart had arrived by ambulance 
durmg Thursday night and reported Indians at Hot Springs. 
Duncan and Wilkie had come down also, leaving Detrich and 
Ben Stone at the springs, while Wiekart and McCarty ^vent 
back to bury Kenk and search for Joe Roberts and August Foller, 
the only members of the Helena party not accounted for. 

Detrich and Stone had remained at the springs, as Detrich said 
he would not return home without Roberts. Roberts was a lad 
of eighteen or thereabouts, and Detrich had promised his (Rob- 
erts') mother that he would be responsible for his safe return. 
He, therefore, remained at the springs waiting and hopiug that 
Weikart and McCarty would bring some tidings of hnn. 

On Friday morning we pushed ahead for the Hot Springs, 
and In a few hours we came m sight of Henderson's Ranche. We 
found the ranche burning and could see the Indians on the side 
of the mountain beyond. Doane gave the order to push ahead as 
rapidly as possible and we reached the ranche sooii after. It was 
then m ashes and the Indians ha\-ing seen or heard us approach- 
ing, had taken to the mountain. 

We encamped for the night and Doane ordered some Crow 
Indians and soldiers to the springs to rescue Detrich and Stone. 
The party dispatched returned about dusk and reported havino- 
found Detrich's body which was warm and bleeding. He had 
received four shots, one passing through the heart. The Indians 
that had fled from Henderson's burning ranche, were probably 
the ones that had shot him. Ben Stone was nowhere to be 
found. That night the soldiers and citizens did picket duty. 

During the night Ben Stone came into camp, and as rnpidlv ag 
his scare would permit, herniated his eKperlence about as fdllovygi 



136 



Sterling Henderson, and " Loot " Crowcll, started on the back 
trail for Bozeman. 

We had gone but a little ways down the river when we saw 
some of the Crow Indians following us. I called Doane's atten- 
tion to them, with the remark that we should have crow for sup- 
per unless he called them back. Loot Crowell also told him to 
call them back if he had any use for them. Doane did so, and 
the last we saw of them he was addressing them ni language that 
was remarkable for its force rather than grace. 

We made Emigrant's Gulch by night, where we were nicely 
entertained. We took an early start for Bozeman, but just before 
arriving there we were told that Joe Roberts and August FoMer 
had returned safely to their homes. Poor Detrich, he had un- 
necessarily forfeited his life in waiting at the springs for Joe's re- 
turn. 

On reaching Bozeman, I learned, with greater delight than I 
call record, of the safety of Dingee, Arnold, Myers, Mann, Har- 
mon, and Oldham. All accounted for but poor George. After 
the amount of censure I had heaped upon myself, you can imag- 
ine how joyfully I hailed the tidings of the safety of the boys. 

They were unmarked with the exception of Oldham, who was 
badly wounded in the face. 

He subsequently related his adventures about as follows: 

MR. A. OLDHAM'S ACCOUNT. 

" We were riding along, surrounded by the Indians, Cowan 
being first, Ida next, then myself and then Mrs. Cowan. I had 
my gun, you remember, which they allowed me to retain as I 
liad l)ut three cartridges for it, and they had none to fit it. Well, 
all of a sudden an Indian rode down in front of us, drew his 
horse back on. its haunches and fired at Cowan. At the same 
time the one that was riding on the ujoper side of me, turned loose 
at me. I felt a twinge in the side of my face, and tumbled from 
my lK)rsc. I fell in a ravine, but immediately jumped to my feet, 
and saw tliat the Indian who had shot me was following me. I 
grasped ni}' gun and raised it to fire, and he started ])ack up the 



137 



hill. I snapped the gun but it was not dischargedj which was 
certainly very providential, as, had I have shot him it would have 
been all up with the balance of the party. I was bleeding freely 
from the wound in my face, the blood running down my throat 
and over my vest. I found that the ball had penetrated the left 
cheek, and, passing downwards, had cut the tongue and come 
out beneath the jaw on the right side. The wound was very 
painful. 

" You know it was lively times for the next few minutes, but 
during the time I kept my gun on the Indians, and they kept out 
of my way. I saw a lot of them go down to where Cowan was, 
and I then dropped down in the bushes and laid there until Sat- 
urday night, thirty-six hours from the time of the shooting. My 
sufferings during the time were intense. 

"Saturday night I crawled out and went down to where Cowan 
was, or where I supposed he was, but he was nowhere to be 
found. I saw Mrs. Cowan's side-saddle laying in the trail, but 
could find nothing of you, Emma or Ida, whom I supposed were 
all killed. I thought, should I find you, I would pile your bodies 
in a heap, and cover you with brush and trees. 

" Failing to find any of you, I went down to where some In- 
dians had built a camp fire the night before, and got a fire brand, 
with which I made a fire in the woods and warmed myself. 

" On Sunday I went to Gibbon's Fork, and followed that down 
until I got into the canyon of the Madison, where I remained 
during Sunday. On Sunday night I traveled again. I killed a 
grouse that day, but I could eat none of it, as my tongue was 
swollen so badly it protruded from my mouth. It was with the 
greatest difficulty that I could breafhe. 

" On Monday night I crossed the Madison and hid among some 
willows on a little island, and on the following morning I saw 
some Indians on Gibbon's Fork. I watched them closely, intend- 
ing, if they came near me, to try and kill one of them and get 
his pony. The ford was close by, and presently I saw two com- 
ing across. As they came closer I got up on to my knees, so as 
to make a sure shot, when I saw they were white men. I stood 

13 



138 



up then, but I could not speak, and could only make a grunting 
noise. They heard me, and, riding up to where I was, I mo- 
tioned for a pencil, which they gave me, and I wrote what I 
wanted them to know. They camped near by, and began doc- 
toring me up. After they got some sugar in my mouth, and 
about the roots of my tongue, the swelling began to go down, 
and I soon got so I could talk a little and swallow some food they 
had prepared for me. They then moved on to Howard's com- 
mand, where I found Arnold and Mann. I remained with the 
troops until we struck the Yellowstone, when I left them and 
came on to Bozeman, and here I am, not so good looking, per- 
haps, although 1 sport a fashionable lip," 

As he finished, DIngee came in and saluted him heartily with, 

" ALy how's your Little Bunch of Roses .^" 

On Thursday afternoon, I was standing on the street in Boze- 
man, thinking of what course to pursue, as regards Cowan, when 
I saw a horseman coming down the street at the topof his speed. 
He was evidently on business of importance, and as he came 
tearing along, his horse foaming with sweat, many hailed him, 
but he responded to no one. He came directly towards me, and 
on reaching me stopped, and said : 

" COWAN IS ALIVE !" 

I could not believe it, and so told him. He said two scouts had 
just come into the post, and reported the finding of Cowan on 
the Thursday before. I hastened to the telegraph office close by 
and asked the operator to send no word of the finding until I had 
investigated farther. I then asked the courier for his horse, and 
started for the fort, but I met the two scouts, who told me that 
they had found one George F. Cowan and had talked with him. 
I returned with the. utmost haste, and telegraphed the glad tid- 
ings to my brother at Helena, who immediately started with the 
news to Emma. 

Soon after I heard that Shrivcly had escaped and was then up 
at the Lachedc Hotel. I immediately repaired thither and as I 
came near I saw a dense crowd gathered about the door, seem- 



139 



ingly intent on something going on within the office. Securing 
a position on the steps where I could see in, I saw Shrively 
mounted on the counter narrating his adventures. Turning 
around he saw me, and making a spring, lit in 'the crowd, and 
shoving them aside he came to me, I think there could be no 
heartier hand-shaking than that which followed. His adven- 
tures having been published, I will not refer to them. 

On Friday morning I left Bozeman for home, arriving there 
about two P. M., shortly after Mrs. Cowan had received the 
news of Cowan' safety. 

We left home the next morning for Helena and spent the Sab- 
bath there. As yet we could not hear by what route Cowan 
would be brought home, so Mrs. Cowan remained in Helena 
that she might hear by telegraph the sooner, as it was thought 
by some that he would come by the way of Bozeman, and others 
thought that he would come by the way of Virginia City. 

On the evening of Wednesday, the 19th of Sept., Mrs. Cowan 
received a telegram from Bozeman, saying that he had arrived 
at Bottler's Ranche on the Yellowstone, fifty miles from Boze- 
man. She received the news about ten o'clock, and at three A. 
M. she was en route to Bozeman, one hundred and twenty-five 
miles distant, where she arrived at 9 P. M. on Thursday evening. 
She took supper, hired a livery rig, and m an hour from the 
time of her arrival, was on her way to Bottler's Ranche where 
she arrived at ten A. M., having made a drive of one hundred 
and seventy-five miles through a mountainous country, over rough 
roads, in thirty-one hours. 

She reached Cowan on the 24th of Sept.," nearly four weeks 
from the time w^hen we had left him for dead. 

The meeting that followed we leave to the imagination of the 
reader. It suffices to state that they arrived home on the 5th of 
October, a little over two months from the time of their de- 
parture. 

Before closing this rambling account, it is but just to say that the 
pleasantries thrust at the members of the party, were in the spirit of 
fun, and with the belief that they and their friends would accept 



140 



them as such. The "enormous appetite" of friend Dingee is 
rather suppositional, as he really was the smallest "eater" of the 
party. 

As I write, the party are all at home, and all have fully recov- 
ered the effects of their scare. The wounded men are convales- 
cent, and it is the sincere wish of the ^ithor that we may all meet 
again for another trip to Geyser Land. 



141 



GEO. F. COWAN'S ACCOUNT. 



I was riding in advance of the balance of the party, with Mrs. 
Cowan, Ida and Oldham following close to me. Mann and Har- 
mon were on foot leading their horses, and Frank I did not see. 
We were surrounded by the Indians, although there were not 
many in front of us. The woods were full of skulking Indians 
and they kept coming and going constantly. 

We had entered the timber and had gone but a little ways 
when looking up the trail I saw a number -of Indians riding 
towards us rapidly. They came on a tearing gait until within 
eight or ten feet of me when they suddenly checked their horses, 
causing them to rear back on their haunches. I felt a twinge in 
my thigh and heard the report of a gun. I knew that I was 
wounded and sprang from my horse. I heard my wife scream, 
and looking up saw her spring from her horse. As I looked I 
saw the flash of a gun near Oldham, and saw him fall. I started 
to run into the bushes in the ravine, but my leg was benumbed, 
and striking a log I fell upon it close to a tree standing near it. 
As I fell I turned over and rested on my left elbow with my 
head down the mountain. The Indians gathered around me> 
and I srv w my wife break through the crowd, run to me and kneel 
by me. She says: 

" O, George! Where are you hurt?" 

" My right leg is shattered," I replied pointing to the wound 
which was bleeding profusely. 

** What Will Ihg^ d@ wllh as?" s^hg mk&ii 



142 



" Be brave; keep up, Emma. If we have to die we will go 
together." 

The Indians had gathered about us in a dense crowd, all talk- 
mg and jabbering at once. I heard Ida scream and Emma rase 
to her knees, Ida continued screaming, when Emma rose to her 
feet and called for her to come to her. Ida came to us screaming 
at the top of her voice. Emma told her to be still, and she ceased. 
They both then knelt by me and my wife put her arms about my 
neck and began crying again. 

Presently Charley, the Indian who had come into camp in the 
morning, came to me and said : 

" Where you shot?" 

Pointing to my wound, I replied; 

" Me shot in the leg, Charley, you take me along. Me all 
right. Me get well." 

I was now very thirsty and observing Frank near I asked him 
to get me some water. He made some reply that I did not un- 
derstand. I remember then of calling for water several times. 
I saw Frank pulled back through the crowd. Just then Charley 
stooped and said: 

" You no shot in here ?" pointing to his breast. 

" No, me shot here," I replied pointing to my leg. 

He then drew the revolver that he had taken from Dingee, 
but my wife jumped and grasped his wrist, and then followed a 
struggle between them, she trying to hold the revolver in the air 
and screaming: 

"Kill me first! Kill me f^rst!" 

" No, kill old one first," he replied, and nodded towards me. 

There was considerable excitement among the Indians, and I 
could hear them say, "kill, kill." 

During the struggle I turned my head and glanced up the trail, 
and as I did so I saw an Indian kneeling with a revolver within 
about three inches of my face. The next instant there was a flash, 
a deafening report, and a faint scream from my wife rang in my 
ears. My head felt as if a great weight had fallen upon it and 
crushed it, and everything became dark* 



143 



In about two hours I began to come back to life, and as I did 
so my head felt benumbed. The feeling as near as I can express 
it was a buzzing dizziness, and the sensation increased as it grew 
lighter and lighter. I began to feel, soon, and then my reason 
came back to me. My head felt very large, seemingly as large 
as a mountain, and I mechanically raised my hand and began 
feeling my face and head. I found my face covered with blood 
and my hair clotted with the blood that had cooled there. I 
then realized the incidents of the day and remembered the shoot- 
ing. I could not at first discover where I was wounded, but af- 
ter getting the blood out of my eyes and pulling my hat off with 
hair and skin sticking to it with the clotted blood, I discovered 
that I was shot in the face and head. Running my hand over 
my head, I found great gashes in the scalp, and I then thought 
the ball had passed entirely through my head in some way. — 
Feeling my leg, I found it completely benumbed, but that there 
were no bones broken. I again felt the intolerable pangs of 
thirst and raised myself on my elbow and looked about me. I 
then found that I was some ten or twelve feet from the place of 
shooting, and thought that the Indians must have dragged me 
after the shooting. This, I thought, accounted for the wounds 
in the back of my head. As far as I could see, the Indians were 
all gone and I could hear nothing but the moaning of the wind 
in the trees. 

Standing near me was a little pine tree the boughs of which I 
could just reach, and grasping one I pulled myself to my feet. 
My wounds were very painful now. As I raised up I saw an 
Indian close by me sitting on his pony quietly watching me. I 
turned to run into the willows close at hand. The Indian 
observed the movement and started down toward me. 
As I was hobbling away, I glanced backward and saw him on 
one knee aiming his gun at me. Then followed a twingeing 
sensation in my left side, and the report of the gun and I dropped 
forward on my face. The ball had struck me on the side above 
the hip and came out in front of the abdomen. 

I thought that this had "fixed me" beyond hope of recovery, 



144 



and I lay perfectly motionless expecting the Indian to finish the 
job with the hatchet. 

I must have lain here fully twenty minutes expecting to die 
every moment, and during the time I think my mind must have 
dwelt upon every incident of our trip. I supposed my wife had 
not been killed. I knew the fate to which she and Ida would be 
subjected, and my whole nature was aroused as I thought of it. 

Directly I heard Indians talking. They were coming up the 
trail, and I could hear them driving a number of loose horses. 
They passed within forty feet of me, but I was unnoticed and 
they were soon out of hearing. I waited for a few moments, 
then turned over and took a look around me. 

I now took another inventory of my wounds, and in trying to 
rise found that I could not use either of my lower limbs. They 
were both paralized. I then turned upon my face and began 
crawling by pulling myself with my elbows, I thus managed to 
get into some willows where I found water which I drank eager- 
ly, and felt greatly refreshed and strengthened. I now began 
crawling as before pulling myself on my breast with my elbows. 
In this way I crawled to a little stream of warm water, and raised up 
on my hands and entered the water. I immediately sank to my 
shoulders in the mud, and the water came up to my chin. This 
would not do, so extricating my hands, I again began crawling as 
before, and found that I thus could cross it. Having crossed it I 
entered the willows on the bank, and began crawling down 
stream and followed it until I struck the East Fork about a half 
mile below where I started from. It was now about one or two 
o'clock in the morning and being completely exhausted I lay 
down and rested until day-break. 

At dawn I again started and crawled until noon, when I again 
stopped to rest, I had been here but a few moments when I 
again heard Indians approiiching, coming down the trail. They 
passed within ten feet of me and were soon out of hearing. 

I hiy here for an hour or so and again resumed my wearisome 
journey. By night-fall I had made four or five miles, and I kept 

OH during the night, raiting at uhert intsrvalb. 



145 



My wounds were very painful and were bleeding profusely, 
yet they did not bother me so much as the intense cold. The 
loss of blood, and the want of nourishment gave me but little 
power to withstand the cold. My clothing, too, was saturated 
with blood, and the mud and water cooling upon me seemed to 
take all the heat from my body. I was compelled to keep mov- 
ing to keep up a degree of warmth. 

I kept on down the trail, or rather by the side of it, and Indians 
kept passing by me every little while, driving ponies as they 
went. I could hear them a2:)proaching and then I would lie down 
and wait till they had passed. 

I kept this up until Monday morning, having crossed the East 
Fork Sunday night, and reached the wagons tiiat we had aban- 
doned on Friday. I had crawled about nine miles in sixty hoin's. 

As I approached the wagons, I saw some papers fastened upon 
the trees, and on going closer to them I saw that they were Mann's 
sketches made on the trip. I discovered portions of Frank's jour- 
nal, and on crawling around I managed to pick it all up. I sup- 
2:)osed then that I would die 'here, and I thought that the journal 
would tell them of the joarty and its capture. I also found 
Frank's pocket book, and many other articles scattered about in 
confusion. The Indians had attempted to destroy everything, 
and had even cut the spokes from the buggy wheels for stalks for 
their whips. 

As I reached the wagon I found my faithful kog. Dido, laying 
beneath it. I called to her, and she came bounding to me, and 
covered my face and wounds with caresses. The 23leasure of the 
m-eeting was mutual. 

The buggy was laying upon the ground, all the spokes hav- 
ing been taken from two of the wheels, and I could search it 
without rising. I found some rags, and a portion of a man's 
underclothing, which were very acceptable, but I could find noth- 
ing to eat. 

It occurred to me that I had spilled some coffee when in camp, 
on Thursday in Lower Geyser Basin, and calling my dog we 
liartsd for it, I ernwiing m byferej and the dog walkiiig bj ^^ 



146 



side. The coffee was four miles distant, but I thought not of that. 
The only idea was to possess the coffee. I was starving. 

While crawling along close to the trail, my dog stopped sud- 
denly and began to growl. I grasped her by the neck, and placed 
my hand over her nose to keep her from making a noise. Peer- 
ing through the brush, I saw two Indians sitting beneath a tree 
but a few^ feet from me. I began moving back cautiously and 
made a circuit around them, keeping the dog close by me. I thus 
avoided them, and reached the Lower Geyser Basin on Tuesday 
night. 

Here, as I anticipated, I found some coffee and a few matches* 
I found about a handful of coffee, and, placing It in an empty 
can that I had found, I pounded it up fine. I then got some 
water in another empty can, that had contained molasses, and 
building a fire, I soon had some excellent hot coffee that refresh- 
ed me greatly. This was the first refreshment that I had taken 
for five days and nights. 

I now began calculating my chances for being picked up. I 
would not starve, as I could, as a last resort, hill my dog and eat 
it^ I shudder now, as I think of sacrificing my noble, faithful 
dogj one that money cannot purchase now, but circumstances 
were such that I did not view it then as I do now. The natural 
desire for life, will force one to any necessity. 

I remained where I was Tuesday night. No one can imagine 
my thoughts during that time. I supposed that I was the only 
one of the party left, unless it be my wife, and the speculations 
upon her fate almost set me mad. It w^as horrible. All night long 
I lay there suffering instead of resting, and I hailed with pleasure 
the break of day. 

I made some more coffee and drank it, which seemed to give 
me renewed strength, but as my strength returned I felt more 
keenly the horrors of my position. I thought now I would 
crawl to where the East Fork empties into the Fire Hole River, 
so calling my dog I began my journey. I^found that I was grad- 
ually growing weaker, as I could now crawl but a little ways 
vvlicn I would be compelled to stop and rest. At about a mile 



147 



and a half distant I came to the place of our first night's camp on 
entermg the basin. Here, again, I had to cross the river, but as 
the water was not deep, I made it without mishap. Here I rest- 
ed for a few moments, before startmg for the timber, which was 
about a fourth of a mile distant. I got there about two o'clock 
in the afternoon, and laid down under a tree and some brush close 
to the road. I was now exhausted and could go no farther. It 
was an expiring effort, and having accomplished it I gave myself 
up for dead. 

In 'about two hours, I heard the sound of horses coming, but so 
completely tired out was I that I did not care whether thej^ were 
Indians or not. My dog began to growl, but I did not try to 
stop her. The horses drew nearer, and approached and stopped. 
The riders had seen me. I looked up and saw that they were 
white men. They alighted and came to me, and one of them 
asked : 

" Who are you ?" 

I replied that my name was Cowan, and I asked thcrn if any 
news had been received of my wife. They replied that there had 
not been, and I then cared for nothing further. I turned from 
them and would have been glad to have died. 

One of them kept talking to me, and asking questions that I 
cared not to answer, while the other built a fire and made some 
coffee for me. They told me that they were scouts from How- 
ard's command, and that the troops would reach me some time 
during the next day. They left me some " hard-tack " and a 
blanket, and went on to the scene of the massacre to find the bod- 
ies of the party. After they were gone and I had eaten, my de- 
sire for life returned, and it seems the spirit of revenge took com- 
plete possession of me. I knew that I would live, and I took a 
solemn vow that I would devote the rest of my days to killino- 
Indians, especially Nez Perces. 

I laid here until Thursday afternoon, when I heard the sound 
of approaching cavalry, and shortly afterwards General Howard 
and some of his officers rode up to me. In a few moments I saw 
Arnold coming. He came up, recognized me, and knelt beside 



148 



me. We grasped hands, but neither spoke for some minutes. I 
could only gasp: 

" A/y wife ! " 

" No news yet, George," he replied. He added that Oldham 
was with the command, and that Mann, Harmon, Dingee and 
Myers had gone to Virginia City. He said: 

" Frank and the girls may get out all right yet ; keep up 
George." 

Arnold examined my wounds and told me that there were three 
or four physicians in the command, and I expected to have atten- 
tion immediately. 

Howard and staff now mounted their horses, and saying they 
would encamp near there, left Arnold and myself together. 

Soon an ambulance came up with Oldham, and they lifted me 
mto it. We went ahead a little ways and went into camp. Ar- 
nold lifted me out and laid me beneath a tree on some blankets, 
and went in search of a surgeon. 

I cannot thank any of Howard's surgeons for my recovery, as 
Arnold eould get no one to come to see me. One would send 
him to another, and he finally learned that they had all gone off 
with Gen. Howard to see the geysers. The general and his stafi 
were picnicing while settlers were bemg killed or dying all around 
' them. Arnold returned disgusted. 

About eleven o'clock the general ( ?) and the officers returned, 
and one of the surgeons came to me. He grumbled about it not 
bemg his place to look after the wounded, and he began probing 
my wounds in anything but a gentle manner. He pronounced 
no bones broken, and with a pair of forceps extracted the pistol 
ball from my forehead, where it was imbeded in the skull. Ar- 
nold then dressed my wounds, Mann and Oldham rendering such 
assistance as they could. The soldier boys, also, were very kind 
and did all they could to alleviate my sufferings. 

The next morning a courier came in from Bozeman, bringing 
the more than joyful news of the arrival there of my wife, Frank 
and Ida. This revived me more than all the attention I could 
ha¥(ri i'eesivgdi Bofdr^ I wah dsB^ondent, now evtrythlng wor^ 



149 



a different aspect, and I could laugh and joke with all. The 
bright anticipations for the future, when my wife and I should 
be united, kept me up during the trials and sufferings of the days 
following, and probably did much to keep death at a distance. 

In conclusion, I wish to say that I feel that A. J. Arnold saved 
my life. Without his care I do not think I could have lived. 
Others were kind ; he was unremitting in his attentions. 

(For further particulars, see Arnold's account. — Author.) 



150 



A. J. ARNOLD'S ACCOUNT. 



During the "swapping" that was carried on by the Indians, 
Poker Joe, or White Bird, pointed out a large grey horse stand- 
ing near the woods, and told me to go and get him. I started to 
do so, and he went with me. Reaching the horse, he placed his 
hand on the saddle to see if it was on well, and then turned to me, 
and, putting his hand on my shoulder, said: 

" You get'm in woods. Stay in woods. No get'm in trail 
again. Go quick;" and gave me a shove into the timber. He 
shook me by the hand as he did so, and I got into the bushes as 
quickly as I could, then sto^^ped and looked back to see what was 
going on. 

Down below me I saw Dingee walking backwards and leaning 
•a horse around a marshy 2:)lace, while an Indian followed him. I 
expected to see Dingee shot, but the Indian seemed to be waiting 
for the others to commence the killing. The rest of the party 
began to move, and the Indian stopped and looked around. I 
then spoke to Dingee and told him to leave the horse and come 
with me. The Indian then turned again, but Dingee was gone. 
They saw us, however, as we started, and fired five shots at us, 
but we were in the thick timber, and they had but little 
chance of hitting us. The wood;, were full of fallen timber and 
sapplings, and following us with horses was out of the question. 

We ran up tlie hill about two hundred yards, and sat down to 
listen, and see if we could hear or see anything of the balance of 



151 



the party, but we could see no one and hear nothing but the yell- 
ing and hooting of the red devils. 

We sat here for some time, but as we could hear nothing, we 
concluded that they were all killed. I consulted my watch, 
which the Indians had not found, it being worn beneath my 
jumper, and saw that it was three o'clock. 

We now considered the course to pursue. We were one hun- 
dred and fifty miles from any house, and a rough mountainous 
country to traverse. We were decided, as regards one thing, 
that was, that no other Indians should get us, if we had to walk 
five hundred miles. We started ahead, and by nightfall had made 
Gibbon's Fork. We thought it would not be safe to make a fire. 
I had matches, as I had placed some in my pocket in compliance 
with the advice of Houston, a few days before, who had told me 
never to be without matches in the woods. As we had neither 
coats nor blankets, we amused ourselves that night by crawling 
over fallen trees to keep warm. 

At daylight we started down the river and traveled till about 
noon when we stopped to get dinner. Just how this was to be 
done was a mystery at first, but Dingee suggested that I go to 
the river and try my luck fishing. It then occurred to me that 
I had a line in my pocket, and we soon had three small fish 
baked at a fire Dingee had made in a gulch where the Indians 
could not see it. They tasted well after a two-day's fast, but 
Dingee's would not stay down. He was very sick for a time, 
and has never tasted fish since. He got so after a time that wa- 
ter would not remain on his stomach, and did not eat a bite for 
the next four days. 

We reached the canyon of the Madison on the evening of the 
second day, and it was now necessary that we proceed with the 
utmost caution as the Indians would probably be watching the 
pass. We could avoid it by crossing a rough range of mountains, 
but concluded to try the canyon, and keep a good look-out 
ahead. 

We began the descent, keeping in the bushes, and we soon 
discovered five horses grazing on the mountain side. We stop- 



152 



ped, and by shifting our positions slightly we saw five Indians 
sitting beneath a tree. The only alternate left us now, was to 
scale the mountain, which we did almost in the face of the In- 
dians, but as it was near sundown they did not see us. 

By the time we had made the summit of the mountain it was 
night, and the air being extremely cold we were compelled to 
travel all night to keep warm. We made poor headway, how- 
ever, as the woods w^ere full of foil en timber, and the mountain 
•was cut by deep ravines. When dajdight came we were still in 
sight of the gej^sers. 

We traveled all that da}^, but very slowly, keeping on the 
mountain range, and at night reached a little stream that flow^s 
by Pros^DCct Hill on the road from Henry's Lake to the Basins. 
That night we suffered severely as it was extremely cold and so 
dark that we could not see which way to go. During the night 
I ascended a mountain to see which way to go, and left Dingee 
to wait m}^ return. In returning I got lost, and wandered about 
a long time before I returned to him. On my return I found 
that he had built a fire, but as it was in a ravine I did not see it 
until I got close to him. 

I was very weak and tired on my return, and sat down b}^ the 
fire and dropjDcd asleep. I awoke suddenly and found my cloth- 
ing on fire. This would not do, so we began traveling again 
over fallen timber and through ravines until daylight. We then 
struck out on our course again but made little headway however, 
our progress at every step being impeded by fallen timber. 

That night we reached the main pass of the Rocky Mountains 
on the Madison road. Henry's Lake lay upon the other side of 
the mountain and we tliought that could we reach this we would 
find succor. 

The idea of again scaling the mountains. in our exliaustcd con- 
dition was discouraging in the extreme. We concluded to try 
the pass and emerged into an open space on the rond, and stop- 
uL-d to take a irood look aliead ])erore venturinor farther. 

A glance at the mountain side was ^^ufiicient to decide us; three 
Indians were sitting near a camp fire guarding the pass. I said 



4 

153 



to Dingee that we must cross the open space, which was about 
one-fourth of a mile in diameter, and reach the mountain. He 
was ojDposed to the plan as it would reveal our presence to the 
Indians. I thought not if we could go fast enough, and we start- 
ed. We were weak and tired, but if there was ever good time 
made on that course it was in that particular instance. I was 
surprised at Dingee's speed and bottom. 

Then came the tug of war, — scaling the mountain. We 
made it by twelve o'clock, and as it was starlight we could see 
Henry's Lake below us. 

As we looked we saw three camp fires. This was encourag- 
ing, as we thought they must be friends, and we would get some- 
thing to eat. Dingee was hungry. 

At daylight we began the descent, and as we left the moun- 
tains, we could see the camp fires lighting up in different places. 
I then thought we had struck another Indian camp, and was dis- 
couraged. We pushed on to reconnoiter, however, and as we ap- 
proached, we heard a strain of the most beautiful music that I 
ever heard. It was a bugle call. We had found the soldiers. 
We traveled lighter now, and entered the camp soon after break- 
fast. 

It was Howard's command, following Chief Joseph's Indians, 
that we had found, and imagine our chagrin when we learned 
that the Indians we had seen in the pass, were Howard's scouts, 
Dingee swore. 

Harmon had beaten us in, but he thought the rest of the party 
were dead. Dingee got a conveyance to Virginia City, and car- 
ried the news that only three of us were saved. 

After I had eaten sparingly, I went to Gen. Howard, who had 
sent for me, saying he wished to talk with me. 

Our conversation was about as follows: 

" How far are the Indians ahead of us ? " 

" About seventy-five miles . ". 

" We do not want you to go back. We will look after your 
party and things." 
13 



154 



" I am going back any how. I want to see what has become 
of the party. I have walked four days and nights without food, 
and can do it again if need be." 

" What were you doing in the Basins? Prospecting or trap- 
ping?" 

" We were there for pleasure." 

" You ought to have known that the Indians were coming." 

" So should Gen. Sherman, then. Was he there prospecting 
or trapjDing ? " 

Our conversation closed with that, and I started back with the 
command. 

The second day from the lake, we encamped at the Big Can- 
yon of the Madison, and that evening we found Mr. Old- 
ham. He had been found the day before by some of Howard's 
scouts. 

That night Gen. Howard got a dispatch from Lieut. Schofield, 
saying, among other things, that Frank Carpenter and sisters had 
come into his camp on the 27th. 

The next day we came to the Lower Geyser Basin, where we 
found Cowan. The news of the safety of his wife was hailed^ 
with joy by him. 

Cowan was a most j^itiful looking object. He was covered 
with blood, which had dried on him, and lie was as black as a 
negro. His clotliing was caked with dry mud, and his head 
looked like that of a tar-lieaded Indian in mourning for the dead. 

The ambulance soon came up, and we placed him in it with 
Oldham. The surgeon told me that he would dress his wounds 
as soon as we could get into camp. We had but a short distance 
to go, and when we encamped the soldiers gave us blankets to 
make Cowan a bed, and we soon had him as comfortable as we 
could. The surgeon did not come, as he promised, and I went 
in cjuest of one, but could find none. At sundown I went again 
and saw Dr. Fit/gerald, wJio said that Dr. Hall was the one that 
should look after Cowan. However, Fitzgerald said he would 
go, and soon came over. He seemed to be angry, and did his 



155 



probing, I thought, hi a manner not in keephig with the wound- 
ed man's condition. During the operation of probing and ex- 
tracting the ball from his forehead," some of them held a blanket 
up to secure Cowan from the wind, and to keep the candles from 
blowing out. 

After the probing the surgeon left us, sajnng that it was not 
his place to dress the wounds. I then, with the assistance of the 
boys, washed and dressed the wounds as best I could, and some 
of the boys gave him some underclothing. The officers of the 
command offered us nothing, although they were sui^plled with 
everything. Neither Cowan, Oldham, or mj^self were in any- 
wa}^ Indebted to the surgeons or the officers for anything. 

Cowan wanted to be forwarded home by the way of Henr^-'s 
Lake, but Howard said that in his condition he needed the l)est 
of medical attendance, (which was true), and that he would see 
to it that he received It, and that he would send him to Fort Kill's 
(which was untrue). The treatment that he received and the 
attention shown him was to be placed In an old wagon and jolted 
over the worst road that ever was passed over by a wao-on. The 
officers and surgeons would have let him rot alive. Some of the 
teamsters gave him underclothing, that was of great service to 
him, as his wounds discharged a great deal. 

During our encampment near the basin, there would not have 
been an officer or a surgeon ca^^tured by the Indians, In case of 
an attack, as they were all off visiting the geysers. I suj^pose 
Howard was " prospecting or trapping." 

The next day we passed the wagon and buggy that our party 
had abandoned, and found that they were almost totally destroy- 
ed. We gathered up what we could, and carried the 23ieces 
with us. 

Arriving at the foot of the mountain that lies between the 
Yellowstone and the Lower Basin, the wagons stopped, but the 
cavalry and Infiintry went on to the Mud Wells. We, who were 
left behind, were well protected that night, as there was not a 
gun In the whole outfit. 



156 



The next morning tlie teamsters got out early to get up their 
horses, as they were afraid the Indians would get them. About 
nine o'clock the quarter-master came back and asked for them, 
and I told him where they had gone. He asked me to get upon 
his horse and go in quest of them, as I was not so heavy as he, 
and said that he would stay with Cowan. 

I mounted his horse and started after them, but met them rcr 
turning without the horses. They said the Indians had them. 
We were then compelled to send ahead for the pack mules, by 
the help of which we made the to^D of the mountains. Here we 
learned that our horses had been stolen by the Indians of How- 
ard's command, they having left him at the Mud Springs and 
gathered up all the loose horses they could find before starting. 
Had it have been the Nez Perces wdiat a delightful situation we 
would haVebeen in. 

• That afternoon we made Alum Creek, and went from there to 
Mud Springs, where Howard was encamped. Here the cavalry 
brought in the Indians that had stolen the horses, they having 
been dispatched after them as soon as the theft was discovered. 
Howard turned six of them loose, but said he would keep the 
rest prisoners until the horses were brought back. The horses 
were produced forthwith. 

Here we remained a day and a half, or until the arrival of 
scouts, who reported that the Nez Perces were coming back, and 
would probably go down Clark's Fork to the Crow Indians. 
We then moved to the \ ellowstone that afternoon, and the next 
day went on to the Lower Falls. The roads were simply horri- 
ble, and almost impassible for wagons. At times we were com- 
pelled to lower them over precijDices with ropes, and again we 
would hitch a rope to a wagon and pull it up the hill by man 
power. 

Jielow the falls we had better roads, but, nevertheless, we were 
nine days going eighteen miles, by the aid of sixty sapjoers. 
Cowon sufTcred intensely, but bore it all bravely. Part of the 
time he was standing on his head, and then again he would be 
on his feet. It was cnouirh to make a well man sick. 



157 



In Lower Creek we had a big scare. The teamsters lost two 
of their horses, and sent two men back after them. The men 
soon returned, and reported having seen about seventy-five In- 
dians on the mountain. AVe thought then that the Nez Perces 
were coming^ back, and s^ot thin^-s in readiness to sfive them a 
warm reception. We got the wagons together and put our guns 
in readiness to do the best we could by them. I told Cowan that 
I would go out and reconnoiter, and if they were coming I would 
carry him into the brush, as it would be necessary for us to eet 
away the best we could. We soon learned, however, that they 
were Crow Indians, sent out by Lieut. Doane in search of How- 
ard's command. 

While on Lower Creek it rained so much that I could not get 
Cowan's underclothing dry, as he had to change every day. 
Cowan then sent to CajDtain Spurgeon, who had charge of the 
supply train, with a request that he would come to him. The 
Captain came, and Cowan told him of the trouble we had in 
keeping him clean, and asked him if he would sell him some un- 
derclothing. Spurgeon replied that he could not get at his. A 
man who was with him said the boxes were ojDcn containing the 
clothing, and that they could be easily got out, but the Captain 
refused positively to let him have any, and Cowan had to suffer. 
This was a fair sample ot Howard's noble-hearted officers. No- 
ble, valorous Captain Spurgeon. As soon as he reached Fort 
Ellis he got uproariously drunk over his great achievments. 

We soon came to a different lot of soldiers, under Colonel Gil- 
bert and Lieutenants Dreuder and Scott. They were very kind, 
and willino^ to do anything- that would be of a benefit to anyone 
in want, and we certainly needed their kind assistance as, from 
Burnett's Bridge to Fort Ellis, we all had a hard time of it, as it 
rained nearly all the way. 

When we sfot to Bottler's Ranche, Cowan was too weak to rise, 
and it is a wonder how he lived at all. We had been carrying 
liim in a Concord mud wagon for three ^veeks over the roughest 
road imaginable, and with little or no attention, more than what 



158 



I could give him, but I haudn't the means of alleviating his dis- 
tress only in a measure. 

At Bottler's Ranche Mrs. Cowan met us. The meeting of 
Cowan and wife can be better imagined than described. Their 
joy w\as too sacred for public j^erusal. 

The fifth day after our arrival Cowan thought he could stand 
the journey homeward, as he had gained considerably in strength, 
and we started for Bozeman. 

About seven miles from Fort Ellis we met with an accident 
that well-nigh put an ending to all our tro.ubles. At this point 
the road is graded on the side of a deep canyon, and as we w^ere 
going down it the strap of the neck-yoke broke, and let the pole 
of the carriage drop to the ground. About three feet of the pole 
broke and run into the ground, which caught the carriage and 
lifted it up into the air and tumbled us out, then rolled over off 
the grade and lighted bottom side up on the trees three hundred 
feet below us. The horses were thrown off the grade, but lodged 
upon the sides of the canyon. 

We placed Cowan on some robes, and, on examination, found 
that his wounds were bleeding. We took a small can that we 
had, and, heating some water, dressed them again. 

Soon a man came along with two horses, and our driver bor- 
rowed one of them to go to Fort Ellis for aid, and, in about two 
hours came back with another team and a carriage. We suc- 
ceeded in getting our horses on to the grade again, when we 
found they were much cut up. 

We loaded up again and started for Bozeman, and arrived at 
the hotel about nine o'clock in the evening. We got Cowan 
some refreshments, and then went to dressing his wounds again. 
As we were dressing them the bedstead gave away and down 
went Cowan again. lie got a fearful jolt, but looked up and in- 
nocently suggested " if we couldn't kill him any other way, to 
turn tlie artillery loose on him." 

Wc remained ten days in Bozeman, and by the kind attention 
gf every one Cowan regained japklly* 



159 



On the eleventh day we started for Helena, seventy-five miles 
away, and made the trip in one day without exchange of horses. 

With the sincere wish that we may all meet again in another ex- 
cursion to the geysers during the coming fall, and that the day 
is not distant when our mutual friend, Charley, wull give us a 
chance to liquidate our indebtedness to him, I close this narra- 
tive. 



160 



IDA CARPENTER'S ACCOUNT. 



I was ridino- beside Albert Oldham a little ways behind Georo-e 
and Emma. The Indians were all around us. I saw two Indians 
on horses coming down in front of us at a full gallop. They 
stopped suddenly and fired, and George jumped or fell from his 
liorse. At the same moment Albert Oldham dropped from his 
horse, being shot by an Indian a little ways above and behind us. 
Emma jumped from her horse and ran to Cowan, and the Indians 
made a rush and surrounded her and George. I sprang from my 
horse and started to run to wTiere George was lying, w^ith Emma 
kneeling by his side, but I was so terrified I could scarcely walk. 
I was benumbed all over, and the froth from my mouth was like 
2)aste. I thought certainly that I was soon going to be killed. I 
spoke to George and asked him where he was hurt, and he re- 
plied that his leg was all shattered. 

Emma was kneeling with her arms around Cowan's neck, 
when an Indian came up, and, catching her by the hand, tried to 
pull her away. He ^^i-dled one of her arms from his neck, and 
then another Indian, seeing that Cowan's head was exposed, put 
a j^istol to his face and shot him in the forehead. Emma fainted, 
then, and I jumped and screamed, and ran in and out among the 
Indians and horses. The Indians ran after me, and one caught 
me by the throat and choked me. I bore the prints of his fingers 
on my neck for two weeks. As he loosened his hold I had the 
satisfaction of biting his fingers. 



161 



They then put me on a horse behind an Indian, and we started 
on, leaving Cowan. I saw Emma on a horse, behind an Indian, 
in advance of us. 

The Indians traveled on, driving loose horses with them. I 
cannot tell how terrible I felt. I had not seen my brother Frank 
only for a moment when he came up to where George was lying. 
I saw an Indian go away with him and I thought they had killed 
him. 

I thought of my poor father and mother. What would they 
do, did they know of our situation. I could remember my moth- 
er's kiss as we 2:»arted, and her wish that we might enjoy the trip. 
I could remember father as he took us by the hands, and, kissing 
us, wished us a pleasant journey. I could see brother Willie as 
he stood at the door Avaving a farewell with his handkerchief. At 
that time I felt sorry for him that he could not go with us, as he 
would like to have done, but how I rejoiced now that he, too, 
was not a victim. I thought how fortunate that he would be left 
for father and mother. I thought of brother George, too; and his 
distress on hearing of our deaths. 

I did not know what had become of the balance of the party, 
but supposed that they were all dead, and expected that Emma 
and I were to be killed soon, too. 

It was quite dark soon, and I was very much afraid, as we 
traveled over high steep mountains, densely covered with dark 
pines. The wind sighed mournfully, as if in sadness for our fates. 
I never before heard the wind so sad and mournful. The Indians 
kept whooping and yelling at their horses, and the echo of their 
yells chilled me to the heart. 

As we advanced the mountains became steeper, and I was 
forced to hold on with all my might to keep from falling off. I 
trembled with fear. I had read of savages burning their ca^D- 
tives alive, and I thought this was why they were carrying us 
with them. I wished that they would kill us instantly and thus 
relieve, us of our sufferings. 

I had not seen Emma since we left Cowan, and we were iioW 
goitig into camp. Some had got there before us, and wer^ sit^ 



162 



ting around their camp fires, and others coming in were in wild 
confusion, driving horses and whooping and yelHng fearfully. 

They took me to the middle of the camp, where there were a 
number of squaws and Indians of all ages. The squaws soon had 
su^^per, and gave me some bread, and tea made of willow-bark. 
The tea was so bitter I could not drink it. I could not eat, al- 
though they insisted on my doing so. They were very kind 
to' me. 

They made my bed on some buffalo robes, and the squaws laid 
down all around me, and thus watched me until morning. 

In the morning I tried to see Emma but she was not be seen 
anywhere. I kept watching for her, and after a while I saw her 
on a horse that White Bird was leading. Oh, how rejoiced I was 
to see her. They let us talk together a little while, then took 
her back to another camp. She told me that Frank was alive 
and in camp. I cannot tell you how glad I was at this. 

The Indians soon started again, and traveled until noon. Then 
a great many Indians went back to fight the soldiers. Soon af- 
ter I saw brother -Frank, and then the Indians held a council 
over us. 



163 



Reminiscences of Early Life in Montana. 



In April, 1S64, my father, D. D. Carpenter, and family started 
from the town of Black Earth, Dane county, Wisconsin, for Col- 
orado. We were some weeks getting things ready to make the 
trip across the plains. My father had been across the plains some 
three or four times, but to his family, and especially myself, there 
was considerable novelty in the preparation and the foithcoming 
journey. 

On the 38th day of Aj^ril, 1864, we were ready to start. We ' 
hitched up our teams, and, on a bright pleasant morning, after 
bidding friends and schoolmates farewell, we started on our jour- 
ney. I will here narrate some of the incidents, of which I recol- 
lect so well : 

We crossed the Mississippi River, at Des Moines, and stopped 
there a couple of days trading horses and resting. We then re- 
sumed our journey, arriving at Council Bluffs about the 15th or 
20th of May. Here my father and uncle, Thomas Logan, bought 
all their supplies and goods for the mountains, consisting of ba- 
con, nails, whisky, sugar, etc., etc. 

We left Council Bluffs, and drove on towards Omaha, and took 
our place in the line of teams or emigrants then crossing the fer- 
ry. As far ahead of us as we could see, or up to the bank of the 
river, stood a line of teams and emigrant wagons, and as fast as 
the ferry took over a wagon, the whole Hne of wagbhb^ ^oiild 

iiisvs itp Qm Wiigoiij ©t m itiaii|^ l^^gshi m ihu Mk^ %bk^ kmli 



164 



across. INIy father's and my uncle's teams remained in this line 
twenty-four hours without unhitching our horses from the wag- 
ons, the while moving up as a wagon crossed the ferry, and so 
on until we arrived at the ferry. Then came our turn, with hun- 
dreds of wagons still in line behind us, and hundreds that had 
crossed before us. Havnig finally got our outfit across, we drove 
up into Omaha, and camped near the border of the town. We 
remained here several clays, gettmg wagon tires re-set and so on, 
and about the first of June commenced our wearisome journey 
across the plains. 

We got up to Columbus, the first towm we struck after leaving 
Omaha, and situated on the Loup Fork. While crossing this 
river, Mr. Peck broke a wagon tongue, and this caused consider- 
able delay. We finally fixed things all right, and again resumed 
our journey. Here it was we first came across Indians, they try- 
ing' to stampede our horses while we were encamped, but with- 
out success. We followed up the Platte River until we came to 
Fort Kearney, Here my father intended to cross the Platte, on 
his way to Colorado, but after seeing two wagons and fourteen 
yoke of cattle go down out of sight in the Platte, concluded wc 
would not cross at that ford. We then pushed on towards Jules- 
burg, and after traveling several days got up near that point on 
the North Fork, and saw a man and family float off down the 
river in a wagon box, the water being so high as to float the 
wagon bed off from the wheels. The family, however, got out 
all right, I believe. My father concluded not to cross here, for 
some unaccountable reason, probably family reasons^ and we con- 
tinued our journey up to Laramie, where there was a ferry. 

While encamped there on the river, the night before crossing, 
\vc ol)served hundreds of teams en route to the new gold mines 
in Idaho, and the people all going in that direction. Our party 
now got the fever, and after consideiablc argument, proposed 
that our crowd should vote whether to go to Colorado or Idaho. 
My father's interests were in Colorado, but after the majority 
concluded to go to Lkiho, he consented to let his Colorado inter- 
ests take care of themselves, at least for the present, so we re- 



165 



mained here several days preparing for a longer journey. While 
here several soldiers from Fort Laramie came over and wanted 
to buy whisky, and as they offered $3.50 per quart for it, 
my father commenced business. After disposing of about ten 
gallons at this rate, the officers at the fort sent over word forbid - 
ing us to sell any more liquor to the soldiers, so that stopped busi- 
ness for awhile. My father and party now crossed the river to 
the Laramie side on a ferry, paying five dollars per wagon for 
crossing, the ferryman giving us tickets to cross at the bridge up 
the Platte from Laramie, two hundred and fifty miles, tickets be- 
mg good for ferryage, bridge crossing, etc. 

We found letters from friends and home at Laramie, and they 
were welcomed by our party. We again set out on our trip, and 
after one day's drive, camped for the night about thirty miles 
from Laramie. Early next morning a party of officers with some 
soldiers rode up, and my father was considerably uneasy, as he 
thought they had come on to arrest us for selling liquor to the 
soldiers after they had bidden him not to, but he was agreea- 
bly surprised to find that they wanted twenty gallons more of 
that whisky, at ten dollars per gallon, which emptied one bar- 
rel. They bade us farewell and drove off, taking the whisky in 
small kegs, and leaving the barrel there. After we had got away 
two or three miles, on looking back, we could see five or six sol- 
diers around that barrel washing it out and drinking the w^ater. 
Some of our party remarked that he w^ould bet those soldiers 
w^ould not leave that barrel as long as it smelled of whisky. 

My father bought a mule at Laramie, and when we got up the 
next morning we saw that mule striking out for home, and 
two or three mdes away, but that did not detain us, as father re- 
marked, " let him rip. I wouldn't go ten feet for him, anywa}^" 
We were soon on the road again, and arrived at the. bridge a few 
days afterwards, and found our tickets for crossing of no account. 
But, on our crowd consulting together, we concluded w^e would 
cross anyway, and when the crowd we were with made up their 
mind it did not take them long to act. We expected a fight, but 
the military concluded It would be wise to let our crowd alone. 



166 



After this we continued on up to the South Pass, overtaking 
trains that had been captured by Indians every day or two. As 
yet we had no trouble. We arrived at South Pass on the Fourth 
of July, where we had a dance and jollification. At Smoke 
River our party separated, some going to Idaho and some to 
Montana, my father among the latter. We arrived at Stinking 
Water, eighteen miles from Virginia Cit}', on the fourth day of 
August, having been over three months crossing the plains and 
mountains. Many incidents occurred on the journey which, how- 
ever, I will not attempt to describe here ; suffice it to say, we 
were glad our journey was ended. 

We rested here a week, and on the following Sunday my 
father went up to Virginia City, leaving mother and several of 
our party camped on the river. He got into Virginia City about 
noon, and, while eating dinner at a restaurant, asked the propri- 
etor what he would take for his outfit, meaning the restaurant 
and appertenances. The fellow said, twenty-five hundred dollars. 
Father said, " all right ; Fll take it." The proprietor said he 
would have to consult his partner first. Father said he would 
jo^ive him twenty minutes to decide, and if he concluded to take 
it to call on him at the city meat market, down the street two 
hundred and fifty yards. Father went down to the city market, 
sat down on a stool, and asked the fellow dishing out meat if he 
owned the shop. The fellow said he did. Father asked him 
what he would take for his business — shop and all. He said, fif- 
teen hundred dollars. The twenty minutes was up, and father 
said he would take it, and half an hour later was dishing out meat 
to customers. The proprietor of the restaurant came in, and said 
he would take the amount ofTered, but father told him he was in 
the butcher business, and would suj^ply him witli meat at the 
usual rates — eighteen cents per pound. 

Father done business a week, and then came down after tlie 
family, and we moved up to Virginia City, on Alder Gulch, a 
gulch thirteen miles long, and, at that time, was paying five, ten 
and fifteen dohars per hand, on every claim, and employing 
about eight thousand people in and about the mines and city. 



167 



The gulch, or parts of it, are still being worked, but Virginia 
City of '78 is not the Virginia City of those days. At the time 
we arrived it was a scene of wild disorder. The Vigilanters 
were in session most of the time, and hanging, shooting and ri- 
oting were the common events of the day. To look at the quiet 
streets of Virginia one could hardly imagine that thirteen years 
ago it was a scene of such wild acts. 

The winter of '64 was a hard one, and provisions were scarce, 
though money was plenty. During the latter j^art of winter and 
in the April following, we had what was called the flour riot. 
Flour went up to one hundred and twenty .five dollars per hun- 
dred pounds, and could not not be bought at that. It was not 
there to buy. 

The gamblers, rioters, and prize fighters took matters in their 
hands, and determined to make a raid on the city and get all the 
flour in it, and a couple hundred of them started at the business, 
but soon let the job out, as the citizens would not endure a mob 
Hke that pillaging the city, and after the shooting of one or two 
of them they dispersed, 

The miners next took up the raid, and one morning, at about 
ten o'clock, there came five hundred armed miners, gathering re- 
cruits as they marched along, some carrying flour sacks in their 
hands, and one carrying a banner, made of flour sacks, on which 
was written, " Flour or Death." Merchants and all surrendered 
at the approach of this body of men, and then commenced a 
scene of wild confusion. Miners, men, boys,, gamblers, and all 
sorts of people joined in this cry for flour, squads of five, eight, 
and ten going through different houses, gathering what flour 
there was, and carrying and depositing it in a large two story 
building, intending to divide it with the citizens and miners that 
were in want. In some places they would find half a sack, in 
others two or three sacks, but in the majority, by far, they found 
none. 

I shall never forget their coming into father's house in search 
of flour. Father had gone over to Lost Chance, (or Helena now), 
one hundred and twenty miles from Virginia City. We had 



168 



been keeping the hotel called the Wisconsin House, but had fail- 
ed during the winter. Just before father left, he had bought a 
sack of flour at one hundred and twenty dollars, and had told 
mother to take care of it, as flour was becoming impossible to 
get. Mother dexDOsited this flour in a box we had taken a melo- 
deon through in, covered it up with a sheet and placed a lid over 
the whole. 

I had been up on the house-tops on Main street watching the 
rioters, and enjoying it only as a boy can, when I thought moth- 
er would be frightened if they came into our house, so, crawling 
down oflT the house-tops, I got back home and found mother all 
alone. She commenced asking me what all the noise in the streets 
was about. I told her the people were after flour, going mto ev- 
erybody's house and taking it. I had just finished speakmg when 
in came eight miners, armed with revolvers and shot guns. 

Coming up to mother, the spokesman said: 

"Madam, we are compelled to search this house for flour, 
and, although it is a disagreeable task, we will have to do our 
duty." 

Mother was crying and somewhat frightened at these fellows 
but she said, " all right ; " and they commenced searching the 
kitchen. Mother and I sat in the dining room, I sittnig on the 
flour chest. 

The men looked hurriedly through the house, and, in pass- 
ing through the dining-room, one of the men said : 

"Madam, we can find no flour here, so you may send your 
boy down to the big building on Main street, and we will send 
you your share." 

My mother thanked them, and they started out. Just as they 
got to the end of the dining-room, one of them stopped and 
said: 

" We did not search the box that that boy was sitting on." 
I wasconsidcral)ly frightened during all this time, but as he came 
up close to me I said : 

" You don't want to search my mother's clothes press, do you?" 

lie said he did not, and turned and followed the others out. 



169 



After they had gone, I said : " Mother, we fooled them plenty ; 
didn't we. Now, you just bet, I'll go down and get that ten 
pounds of flour," and T did. Mother gave me credit for a little 
smartness. 

The flour riot was a success, and after finding several hundred 
sacks, the flour was divided among families and miners. Those 
that had monej' paid for those that did not have it. Some paid 
fifty dollars for ten pounds; others pa'd fifteen or twenty dollars, 
according to their^ pile of wealth, I have heard that W. F. 
Sanders offered two hundred and fifty dollars for one hundred 
pounds, at the time of the riot. 

One merchant, who was suffering from hunger, said : 

" My poys, I don't have got no flour, only shust a leedle bit in 
my sthore. I knows you no find any more as dot leedle sack." 

The boys, however, went out back of his store and tipped over 
a hay stack and found, hidden beneath it, twenty sacks. The ex- 
pression on that merchant's face can be better imagined than de- 
scribed. 

After the flour was divided, a committee of the rioters went 
around and paid all merchants fifty dollars per sack for what had 
been taken from them, which was a good profit, as the flour had 
cost to get it there, about ten dollars per hundred pounds — freight 
and all. 

In the fall of '64, political excitement ran high, and at the time 
Col. McLane was elected to Congress, and during the time of 
electioneering, it was lively. Col. W. F. Sanders was McLane's 
opponent, and lived next door to my father's. McLane stopped 
at the Planter House, on the opposite corner. The brass band 
would play " Dixie " in front of the Planter House, then cross 
the street and give us " Yankee Doodle." Between the tunes 
drinks would be sandwiched. It may be remarked that all ho- 
tels and restaurants kept a bar in those days, and as far as I am 
able to judge, do so yet. Either without it would quietly drop 
out of existence in two weeks, for lack of patronage. 

Next door to Col. Sanders' was the printing establishment of a 
small paper called the Montana Post. In the course of two 
H 



no 



months the building was vacated, and was used as a house of 
worship. Next to this was a large saloon, and next came a large 
gambling saloon, and adjacent to this was a " hurd3'-gurdy " 
house. On the opposite side of the street was an auction store, 
and all of these stood within fifty yards of the Wisconsm House, 
of which my tather was proprietor. 

On Sundays all these houses were patronized, and it would 
bother a listener, standing on the steps of our house, to, tell which 
made the most noise. The preacher, gamWers, auctioneer, and 
" hurdy-gurdy " outfit, all shouting at once. A few free fights 
in the street, with pistol shot accompaniment, was no unusual oc- 
currence during the jDrogress of the exercises. Perhaps there 
was never a place on the earth where there was such a comming- 
ling of the good and the evil, with the latter largely predominat- 

There was lively times among the hotels then, too, and each 
w^ould vie with the other in securing patronage. It was a part of 
my duties on Sundays to stand in the dining-room a half hour be- 
fore dinner and rattle dishes, that the 2oublic might liear that we 
were doing a large business. It drew, and we generally had 
about a hundred and fifty for dinner on that day. 

In the spring of '65, my father went over to " Last Chance," or 
" Helena New Diggings," that had just been struck, and bought 
out a restaurant. He sent word for my mother, Emma, Ida and 
Willie to come over on the coach, and left my brother George 
and I to pack up the household goods and come over with the ox 
train. When he purchased the restaurant, he had, also, bought 
some fifty pounds of fiour, but this soon gave out and he was 
compelled to quit business, as he had not learned the art of con- 
ducting a icstaurant without provisions. 

While in Virginia City my father had formed a partnership 
with a German named Mauer, a slow, easy-going kind of a fel- 
low. He also packed up his goods and loaded them on the same 
ox train upon which we had loaded our goods, and set out with 
us for the new diggings. About a week or ten days previous to 
our going, he had shipped to father one hundred pounds of salt 



171 



and other commodities for immediate use in the restaurant. He 
opened a store in connection with his restaurant, with the salt as 
a basis. He had the good fortune, too, of buying half a sack of flour 
for seventy-five dollars, and my mother having made it into pies, 
he added a bakery to his establishment, and did a thriving busi- 
ness, as he retailed the salt at one dollar and eighty cents per 
pound, and the pies for two dollars and twenty-five cents each. The 
pies, particularly, were m demand, as a long file of men were in 
waiting for their turn to get the pies they had contracted for 
before being baked. The profits on all was about six hundred and 
fifty dollars. 

• We arrived in about three weeks after this, and found that the 
family had been without flour for almost two weeks, and had been 
living on beef alone. But we had brought a sack of flour with 
us, and soon had matters to rights again. 

Father now commenced business in earnest, as Zslaucr had a 
pretty good stock of goods. Mauer had an ox train loaded with 
flour, that had been snowed in on the other side of the range to- 
wards Ogden City. It arrived in Helena about the middle of 
June. Before its arrival in town Mauer said to my father: 

" Carp., take that flour and do the best you can with it." 

Father asked him if eighty dollars per sack would satisfy him, 
and he replied : 

" Yes; or seventy-five dollars either." 

Father then told him to keep the train out of town three or 
four miles until he wanted it. He then got some posters and 
hand bills printed, stating that he could furnish all with flour at 
one hundred and fifteen dollars per sack, and started ray brother 
and myself, and about a half dozen others, to distribute them 
among the miners. On Saturday evening, Mauer brought the 
train into town, and on Sunday morning we w^ere ready for busi- 
ness, with five hundred sacks of flour to dispose of. Other dealers 
came to father, and offered one hundred and twenty and one hun- 
dred and twenty-two dollars per sack for the lot, but it was not for 
sale to them at any price. About nine o'clock the miners began 
coming, and by night we had sold four hundred and ninety sacks,' 



172 



We had done more than this, as we had thus secured the trade 
of the miners, which we kept during the summer. Father bought 
out Mauer's interest in the store, and paid eighty-five dollars per 
sack for the flour. During the next five months we did business 
to the amount of sixty-two thousand dollars, the trade being con- 
fined to vegetables principally. Potatoes sold for sixty cents per 
pound after the eyes were taken out, which sold for one dollar 
and fifty cents per pound for seed. 

The morals of the place were about on a par with those of 
Virginia City, as we had the dance houses, gambling saloons, etc., 
with all that the names Imply- The miners would come down 
on Saturday night, and, after settling the store bills, would go to k 
gambling saloon or the " hurdy-gurdy," where they would re- 
main until Monday morning. They would then return to their 
work, and on Saturday night come down again for a repetition 
of the same. This they kept up during the entire summer. 

Sometime in July the citizens indulged in their first " hanging 
bee," and one John Kmg was the victim. While sitting in front 
of my father's store one day, King and another man passed by. 
King seemed to be talking earnestly to his companion. They 
passed on up Bridge street, until opposite Sam Green's gambling 
saloon, where they stopped. Kmg drew a revolver from its 
sheath and, turning toward the saloon, fired three shots at a man 
sitting on the door-step, and killing him instantly. The first shot 
struck the man in the forehead, and the others took eflfect in the 
body. King then put up his revolver, and, turning to his compan- 
ion, continued his conversation at the point where it had been 
.broken oflf. They stood thus talking until interrupted by C. D. 
Curtiss, who approached King and said : 

" Here, Cap., I want you ! " 

King turned to the man with whom he was talking and said 
that he would see him again, and, handing his revolver to Cur- 
tiss, started down town with him. 

They came down the street to a lumber yard, and placed him 
on a pile of lumber. One of the citizens asked him why he had 
shot the man, and King replied that they were old acquaintances, 



1V3 



and, having quarrelled in Blackfoot and parted with the mutual 
agreement to shoot on sight, in case they met, he (King) had 
" got the drop on him." That was the defense. The citizens took 
a vote to dispose of the case, and in a half ho'ur af erwads King 
was swinging^ from a limb on " hangman's tree," on the edge of 
the town. This was one of the many similar occurrences during 
the summer and winter following. It is entirely different now, 
most of the rough element having gone to the Black Hills,- 
where the same scenes are enacted as at Virginia City and 
Helena. 

Perhaps a few remarks as to the methods of mining ma}'^ be 
of interest to those who have ne ^er witnessed the processes. I 
will take Diamond City as an example of hvdraulic and place r 
mining. This city is situated about fo' ty-five ftiiles from Helena, 
and has produced more gold in proportion to the size and length 
of the gulch (called Confederate Gulch) than any other gulch in 
the territory. 

The mouth of the gulch is about eight miles from Diamond 
City, which is situated above. The road winds up the gulch be- 
tween very high mountains, so high in fact, that it is a common 
saying that one must look twice to see the summit, being too 
high for one look. Boulders, gullies and prospect holes of all 
sizes and without numbers, are encountered as one picks his way 
carefully through the gulch, and a ride of eight miles over such 
a road brings us to a sudden turn in the road beyond which lies 
the city. 

The only street runs along the gulch, and the miners' cabins, 
hotels, saloons, livery and feed stables, line its sides. It is about 
six hundred yards long and about twenty leet wide, and is not 
noted, for its picturesqueness nor beauty. The gulch at this 
point is about fifty or sixty yards wide, and back of the houses 
are the mines, and the main street is tunneled underneath. Here 
we see hydraulic mining. 

A ditch runs along the side of the mountain hundreds of feet 
above where the miners are at work, that come? from 
the head of streams ard catches the water from the melting snow 
at the summits and holds it as a reservoir for mining pur- 
poses. The water is conducted from this ditch b}^ the means of 
a large canvas hose, about eight inches in diameter, that is laid on 
the surface of the ground, and winds in a serpentine course down 
to the gulch. 

The gulch end is fitced with a nozzle two to three inches in diam* 
eter, and the water rushes through with such an immense foiCe that 
it, on being turned against the mountain, knocks dirt and boul* 



174 



ders in every direction. During the time that the water is play- 
ing against the bank, a smaller stream is flowing from another 
ditch a few feet above the top of the bank into the sluice boxes, 
into which also empties the stream from the hose with the dirt 
and stones that it has washed from the bank. The dirt and 
gravel is carried through the sluice boxes by the water, and at 
the lower end is dumped. As it passes through these boxes, how- 
ever, the gold that it contains is separated by a process described 
further ©n, and remains in the riffles. 

The sluice boxes are made of foot lumber, and is composed of 
a bottom and two sides. They are generally twelve feet long, 
and are carried down the gulch as far as the miner wishes. The 
low^er end of each box fits into the upper end of the one below. 
In the bottom of ane or two of these boxes is what is called the 
riffles, which are made of a board full ot two-inch auger holes, 
and then fitted into the bottom of the sluice box. A small quan- 
tity of quicksilver is placed in each hole and the water now turn- 
ed in at the head from the small ditch. The hose is brought to 
bear against the bank, and the muddy water, gravel, and stones, 
among which the small particles of gold is mixed, passes into 
the sluice boxes also. As the water passes over the riffles the 
gold, which is much heavier than the gravel, etc., drops into the 
holes in the riffles. The quicksilver then adheres to it, making it 
still heavier, and thus prevents its being washed out. 

In cleaning up the water is turned off, and the gold dust and 
quicksilver is brushed into a gold pan. It is then panned out by 
washing the dirt out of the pan, leaving the gold dust and quick- 
silver in the pan. It is then dried by putting the pan on the fire. 
If the mmer wishes to save the quicksilver he places the contents 
cf the pan in an iron crucible which is fitted with a tight lid, and 
has an iron pipe about three feet long attached. The crucible is 
then placed in a forge, like a blacksmith's, and heated to a melt- 
ing heat. One end of the iron pipe is placed in a tub of cold 
water, and as the quicksilver is melted, it passed out through this 
tube in the semblance of vapor. As the vaj^or touches the cold 
water, it becomes condensed, and falls into the bottom of the tub 
in the form of (quicksilver and is again ready for use. The gold 
which remains in the crucible is now taken out, and is called "re- 
tort," and is generally worth more than other gold, since the 
melting has freed it of many impurities. 

Those miners who do not use quicksilver, catch the gold in the 
riffles, pan out the dust, dry the gold, and it is ready for market 
or use. 

Placer mining consists in shoveling the dirt into the sluice 



175 



boxes, instead of using the hydraulic power, or in sinking a 
shaft to the bed rock and hoisting the dirt to the sluice boxes. 
But this method of mining as well as of hydraulic mining has 
gradually been superseded by quartz mining, which now may be 
said to constitute the mining interests of the territory. 

Quartz mining is done by crushing the rock that contains the 
gold and silver before the washing process. 

A prospector, in climbing over the mountains, generally strikes 
a lode by observing the croppings, which is a line of rock run- 
ning up the side of the mountain, and is about six inches to a 
foot in width. By the use of the pick and sho\'el he soon throws 
up enough to determine its character. If he thinks it is good he 
still sinks farther into the lode until he has attained the depth of 
ten feet or such a matter, and then definitely determines its value 
by getting a piece of rock assayed, which gives its value in gold 
or silver to the ton of rock. If it is so rich and there is a quartz 
mill convenient, he commences his mining operations in earnest 
by sinking a shaft lengthwise of the lode and blasts the rock with 
powder. He then hoists the rock to the surface, and carries it to 
the mill, where it is fir^t broken into pieces about as large as a 
hen's Ggg^ with a sledge hammer. It is then thrown into the feed 
box of the quartz mill, or crushing machine. 

The mill has generally five stamps that weigh from five hun- 
dred to one thousand pounds each. There is a revolving shaft 
across the tops of the stamps that is so attached that it lifts them 
alternately and lets them fall upon a block of solid iron. Inclos- 
ing the lower part of the stamps is a square box in which the 
crushing takes place. At one side of this box is a tin screen 
made of a sheet of perforated tin. A rubber hose carries water 
into the top of the box, and as the stamps crush the quartz into 
a fine dust it is washed through the small holes in the screen out 
on to copper plates that is covered with quicksilver, which 
catches the particles of gold, and permits the refuse rock and dirt 
to pass off into sluice boxes. The plates are brushed off, and the 
mineral therefrom is called bullion. 

There are two kinds of lodes, viz. : silver lodes and gold lodes, 
the name being determined by the predominating mineral found. 
The quicksilver is separated as before, and the mineral then be- 
comes either retort or silver bullion. It is then shipped by ex- 
press to the United States Assay Office, at Helena, where it is 
melted and run into square bricks. It is then assayed and found 
to contain so much silver and so much gold, and stamped with its 
value in silver and in gold, and also with the fineness of each, 
nine hundred fine being about the average for Butte silver. 



176 



Leaving Diamond City we go up the road until we reach a 
trestle work under which the road passes. Looking up to the 
right, on the mountain side, we can see the ditch from which the 
water is ohtained for the hydraulic mining It is eighteen miles 
long, and is four feet wicle by three feet deep. This ditch car- 
ries the water for the mining on the other side ot the gulch, and 
below us, and it is necessary that it be brought across the gulch 
to another ditch on the Oj^jposite side, whence it is carried by the 
hose to the mines below. This is done by the means of an iron 
pipe two feet in diameter, that is laid down from the first ditch, 
across the trestle work, and up the mountain on the other side to 
the second ditch, where it empties its waters. The owners of this 
ditch and soii^e of the mines took out a million and a half dollars 
worth of gold dust. But Diamond City, like many others, are 
numbered among the things that were. They have the wealth 
if they only had the money to develop it. 

The principal mines of Montana are at Butte, Helena, and 
Strawberry, near Virginia City. 

Montana is destined to be one of the richest territories ot the 
west. Its mines cannot be excelled, and its farming lands pro- 
duce forty to fifty bushels to the acre of wheat and barley. 
Thousands of acres are waiting to be tilled, and its ranges for 
stock are unsurpassed. Stock lives the year round without feed- 
ing, grazing on the ranges and in the valleys always being good. 
Beef and game are always found in abundance, (and Indians also). 

In closing this volume I can but reiterate the advice of Horace 
Greeley, with this amendment, don't let the Indians catch you. 




?gfV^^?^n^?^S^= ; ..i^^mm^^' ^''^'^ 



J THE WONDERS -1 

f GEYSER LAND. 

A TRIP TO THE 

TEllOWSTOl NATIONAL PARK, 

OF WYOMING. 

^ Tog^ether with a thrillinor account of the 

2 Capture By The Nez Perces Indians, I 

AND SUBSEQUENT ESCAPE OF THE 

A'ATWjyjL PARK TOURISTS, 

Of Radersburg and Helena, Montana, in August, 1877. 



ILLUSTRATED. 



By F. D. carpenter. | 

BLACK EARTH, WIS.: ffl 

BURNETT & SON, PRINTERS AND PUBLISHERS. -A%l 

^^Mm M^^- -^^^ isf^gs^ 




THE LOWER FALLS OF THE YELLOWSTONE, 



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